In the Shadows
by EmmaWilder
Summary: Hermione yanked his injured arm towards her. "I've seen your blood Malfoy. I've actually kept it from spilling out all over the floor. And let me tell you, it looks the same as mine." She angrily flung his arm away from her. "People will die Malfoy. People like you. People like me. But in this moment, we live outside of that. We are the same."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : Anything recognizable doesn't belong to me. The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

* * *

The castle was cool and quiet. Nearly the middle of October, Hermione had already settled into her sixth year. It was well past midnight and Hermione should have been done her patrol by now. Yet she had been sidetracked by Peeves in an abandoned classroom who had done quite the convincing job of luring her to the scene by impersonating rowdy first-years. She cautiously walked down the hall, her ears perked listening for any oncoming footsteps. She was out way past curfew, and knew that she would still be in trouble if Professor Snape or Filch found her, even if she was a Prefect.

As she walked, she was disturbed from her thoughts as her foot stepped in something slick. She wrinkled her nose and whispered "Lumos", expecting to find some potion ingredient or another spilled on the floor. Hermione took a sharp intake of breath. Glistening on the floor was a trail of what could only be blood. The dark red liquid was trailed along the floor and around dark crevice. Hermione stiffened her shoulders, raised her wand, and peered around the corner. Her gasp was barely audible. Slouched against the wall at the base of the Astronomy Tower, looking nearly unconscious was Draco Malfoy, uselessly muttering and tapping his wand to the gash that ran along his arm. He was obviously unaware of her presence and desperately in need of assistance. Hermione glanced behind her. Should she leave him to his own devices? He'd made his feelings about _her kind_ perfectly clear. And yet, despite everything he had done, Hermione knew she couldn't just leave him there. She approached him carefully, but he was too intent on his task to notice her. _Or he had lost too much blood to be aware of what was going on_ , Hermione thought tensely.

"Malfoy, what on earth happened to you?" She asked in a frantic whisper, still wary of being found out by any of the professors. Her voice at least, had gotten his attention. He looked up at her, his eyes seeming to have difficulty focusing on her face. Finally he responded.

"Wha' d'ya wan' mubloo?" his speech was completely warbled and filled with sighs, a definite sign of the fatigue his body was suffering. Ignoring his words, she was quite used to his insults by now, she muttered a quick "scrougify" to clean the area and knelt on the ground to look at his arm.

"This does not look good," she murmured, running her fingers gently along the side of his arm. The gash was deep and the wound looked as if it had recently reopened. Perhaps his healing spell had somehow faltered. He flinched but didn't pull away. "We should get you to Madame Pomfrey."

"No!" That word came loud and clear from him. Hermione smacked a hand over his mouth. His eyes gleamed with fear and panic. It was that look which made Hermione reconsider simply abandoning him.

"Fine!" she whispered urgently, "But shut up will you? Do you want us to be found out?"

"Don', y' filth'" he let out another heavy sigh and couldn't complete his insult. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Silencio," she muttered, and Draco had just enough energy to look outraged. He went to pull away, tugging his arm fruitlessly.

"If you won't be quiet long enough for me to think of a healing spell to help, then I'll have to do it for you." She glared at him. Here she was, helping the bloody ass, and he couldn't even be the least bit grateful. "Added that your silence will help you reserve your energy." She snapped. Whether it was from defeat or consent, she would never know, but Draco finally settled down and allowed her to look at his arm. She tried to roll up his sleeve, but he flinched again, so she went to the seam and tore it off.

"Sorry" she muttered, but continued her perusal. Not sure if the wound was from a spell or not, she decided to clean it first, in case it had been made by a tree or something that could cause infection. Draco leaned against the wall and let her work in peace. The only noise that could be heard was his shallow breathing and her muttering spells now and then. After some consideration, she had used a spell that mimicked stitches to close the wound. Just trying to heal the skin wasn't working, but the stitch-like spell seemed to be holding.

"Scrougify" She muttered again, this time cleaning his arm and the rest of the blood stain on the ground. Satisfied, she got up and dusted off her pants.

"That should do it," she said to him, his eyes watching her warily. "I don't think it will help the pain though." She chewed on her lower lip. "Can you get up?" He rolled his eyes at her.

"Oh," she smiled a little, "Sorry, finite" she gave her wand a little flick. He flexed his arm, scrutinizing her handiwork. Hermione held out her hand to him to help him stand. Draco stared at it mutely, before placing his hand in hers, allowing Hermione to help hoist him to his feet. He continued to stare at her in intense silence, his eyes boring into hers. Hermione shifted, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. Unwilling to be the first to turn away, she decided to be the first to speak.

"If that's all…" She gently pulled her hand away from his and took a small step back.

"Why?" Draco asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. Hermione didn't pretend not to understand him.

"I couldn't just leave you there, could I? You may have bled to death!"

"Yes you could have. I would have," he admitted gravely. Hermione rolled her eyes and sniffed.

"Well, I suppose that just shows you the difference between us then, doesn't it?" Silence reigned between them. Unable to stand it any longer, Hermione looked away and backed towards the door.

"You'll be able to make it to your common room, won't you?" She asked lightly, avoiding his gaze. Part of her wanted to run back to her room, but she couldn't bring herself to leave him just yet. He was hurt and he had actually let her help him.

"Yes," he said, putting a foot tentatively forward. He stumbled and swayed before completing the step. Hermione was by his side before she knew what she was doing. His eyes were closed and his breathing was labored. Hermione pulled his arm around her shoulder.

"Lean on me," she commanded unnecessarily. Draco had already slumped against her. Desperate, Hermione turned to the neighbouring empty classroom. Once inside, she pulled him towards a chair and eased him into it.

Hermione stared at him a moment, unsure what to do next. If he did not want to go to the Hospital Wing, he certainly wouldn't want her to go get a professor. Draco mumbled incoherently.

"What?" Hermione knelt by him and watched his face.

"Water" he mumbled again, but slower. Hermione leapt up.

"Water! Yes, of course, I can do that," she exclaimed. She gently placed her hand on Draco's forehead and tilted it back, unconsciously brushing his hair back. He started at that soft touch, but Hermione didn't notice as she focused on her task.

"Open," she murmured as she placed her wand at his mouth. He parted his lips.

"Auguamenti." Water streamed from the tip of the wand and filled Draco's mouth. Hermione tore a piece of her robe off the hem and wet it. She placed the cool fabric on his warm and clammy forehead. What he really needed was sugar. Something with more nutrients. And it wasn't like she carried Blood Replenishing Potion on her. Leaving Malfoy with the cool cloth, Hermione took a left over piece of parchment and charmed it into a small goblet. After filling with water, she transfigured the water into orange juice. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she did so. It was one of the spells she researched in first year after hearing Seamus's attempt at turning water into wine. She handed it to Malfoy, who had been watching her silently from lowered lids. The minutes passed away in silence, the only noise Draco's sips and sighs.

"I think – I think I can move now," Draco said quietly. Hermione was startled at the sound of his voice.

"Of course, alright." Hermione stepped away and Draco gently raised himself from the chair. Hesitantly, Draco put one foot in front of the other until he reached the door. Hermione watched, holding herself back from offering assistance. He had to get back to his common room on his own. She couldn't risk being down in the dungeons at this time of night.

He stopped at the door and slowly looked back at her. His silver eyes were guarded, but Hermione was sure there was something else glimmering in them.

"Thank you Granger." Stunned that Draco Malfoy even _knew_ those words, Hermione didn't have a chance to reply before he was gone.

His words rang with sincerity and Hermione realized that perhaps what she had seen in his eyes was appreciation and gratitude. How odd for a Slytherin.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione nibbled on her toast and consciously avoided looking at the Slytherin table. He wasn't there. At least she _thought_ he wasn't there. She couldn't be caught scanning that table. It would cause uproar. And Harry and Ron would be sure to notice. She had been lucky that no one had noticed how late she'd been back last night. She'd made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room without further incident and without being caught by any lingering professors. Or Filch. Which she was grateful for since her mind had been full of the haunted grey eyes of a certain Slytherin.

"… Malfoy." Hermione choked on her toast. What had Harry been talking about? Did he somehow know about last night?

Ron whacked her back in concern. "All right there 'Mione?" Hermione grasped for her pumpkin juice and nodded shakily. After gulping in some air, she managed to gather herself enough to look casually at Harry.

"All good now, thanks. What were we talking about?" She took a small bite of her eggs, determined to come across nonchalant.

"Oh don't get him started," Ron groaned around a mouthful of food. Hermione wrinkled her nose as some food spewed out. Ron was endearing, but when it came to food the boy really needed to work on his manners. She wondered if it was because he had so many brothers.

Harry zeroed in on Hermione, determined to have someone hear him out. "Malfoy. He's up to something. I know it. I think Voldemort –" Ron cast him a look and Harry rolled his eyes- "is using him for something. He disappeared on the Hogsmeade weekend and hasn't been seen since. I even tried tracking him on the map with no luck. He is up to no good."

Hermione caught herself from saying _she_ had seen him. Before Hermione could process this information – and get over the fact that there had been a very good chance of Harry seeing her name with Malfoy's on the map last night!- Ron flung down his fork to reply.

"And I told you mate, it just doesn't seem likely, does it? Malfoy's a snivelling brat. He's not bloody going to be able to get something past Dumbledore. Bloke's not that bright." As the boys glared at each other, Hermione worried her bottom lip. Which, had they been paying attention, would have been a give-away to her concern. Should she say something to Harry about last night? He was so focused on Malfoy, it was becoming a fixation.

Thankfully she was saved from making that choice at the moment.

"You lot should hurry up. We'll be late for Charms," Neville voice was cheerful as he urged them to get a move on.

Ron shovelled down a few more forkfuls and Harry and Hermione prepared to leave. Talk quickly turned to other subjects. But Hermione's mind still turned with the ideas Harry had presented. Had Malfoy been gone since the trip to Hogsmeade last weekend? Today was Tuesday, and they had been to Hogsmeade on Saturday… which meant that last night had perhaps been the night Malfoy had returned to the castle. And as Hermione entered the classroom, she couldn't help but wonder - last night, had she been helping the enemy?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** : Anything recognizable doesn't belong to me. The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure exactly what compelled her to walk up to him in the library. Well, she knew what, but she couldn't understand _why_. His feelings about her presence had been made perfectly clear over the last few years. Still, after seeing him bloodied and bruised by an unknown hand that night, she felt that she needed to confront him. To see that he was okay.

So when she noticed him enter the library, her usual turf keep in mind, she believed that he might have wanted to talk to her too. Though, he had been sitting at a safe distance from her and she wasn't even sure if he had actually registered her existence. As the library thinned out, and Madame Pince seemed intent on her own reading, Hermione made her way over to Draco's desk.

"Not now Granger," he said without looking up, before she even had the chance to open her mouth! Hermione harrumphed.

"Really, I just came to see if you –" she trailed off as his gaze hit her with its cold intensity. She mustered her Gryffindor courage. She would not falter before such a look. He owed her an explanation at least.

"Are you alright? Did I manage to … fix everything?" she asked, conscious of the possible prying eyes and ears around them. Malfoy continued to glare, not uttering a word.

"Seriously Malfoy, a simple nod would do. There is no need to be such a – a –prick!" She exclaimed, frustrated. "Your silence is childish. Though that is to be expected, so I suppose your behaviour is an indication that you are feeling top notch again. A pleasure as always, Malfoy." Hermione turned to leave, but his low hiss stopped her.

"Why do you even pretend to care? You'd be quite happy if I turned up dead. As would most people in this place," he muttered darkly. Hermione stared at him sadly.

"It must be miserable to be you. To think and feel that way. But the way I see it, for now at least, we are still fellow students. We are the same age, in the same school, in many of the same classes. Whether you like it or not Malfoy, we do share a history. And for me, that means if I see you as I did I want to help. And I would like some answers about what exactly happened the other-"

"Enough!" Draco snapped, cutting her off and casting a wary look about the room. A few students lingered, seemingly intent on their work, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"You want to talk? You need answers?" he sneered, "Fine. I'll consider it. But only because of what you did. I don't want to owe you a thing. Then we'll be even."

"I'd hardly say we're even Mal-"

"Not now! And most definitely not here" he spoke over her in quiet hushed tones. "Meet me in the Astronomy Tower tomorrow night at ten o'clock. Tell no one. Bring no one. Do not be seen."

He gathered his things and went to storm away.

"How can I trust that this isn't a setup? That you don't have a trap planned for me?" Hermione demanded. She was genuinely concerned and wanted answers, but she wasn't stupid. He was still a Slytherin. A Slytherin connected with Death Eaters. Not exactly a safe and trustworthy sort.

He let out a hollow laugh.

"You were the one who wanted to _talk_ Granger. Do whatever the hell you want." He avoided her gaze as he walked out, tossing back quite loudly "You'll just have to wait until I'm done with the book Mudblood. Too bad."

She stared after him in confusion, until she noticed that they had garnered the attention of Madame Pince and one of the remaining students. Letting out what she hoped sounded like a frustrated sigh, she returned to gather her things and retreat to the Gryffindor Common Room.

* * *

Hermione apprehensively climbed the steps of the Astronomy Tower. She had borrowed the Marauder's Map from Harry, claiming the need to do some extra research for their Potion's assignment in the library, so she knew that the coast was clear. She had felt a twinge of guilt as he complied without question. And now she started to wonder if it had been wise to take the map with her instead of leaving it with Harry. If this was a trap, after all, then they boys would have had a better chance knowing something was wrong if they checked it.

"Too late now," Hermione murmured. But she wasn't stupid enough to let Malfoy, or anyone else, get his hands on it. She quickly muttered "Mischief Managed" and shoved the map into her robes. She felt secure enough to leave it. The castle was quiet tonight.

Hermione worried her lip as she entered the seemingly empty Astronomy Tower. Come to think of it, it had been too quiet. She hadn't noticed Malfoy's name on the Map. Did that mean he wasn't coming to meet her after all?

She huffed. Perhaps this was just some dirty trick. She'd wait here and be caught by a Professor. He'd report her to Snape, of course. Hermione turned to leave, determined not to be made a fool of. Her foot hit the first stair, but then she hesitated. She knew that there was Ancient magic involved in life debts. Perhaps Malfoy believed he owed her a debt for her assistance. She paused, debating with herself, finally deciding to wait. She had the map, after all. If she heard anything, she'd hide, then whip it out and await the opportunity to escape.

Realizing that she was a prime target just standing smack in the middle of the room, Hermione edged towards a corner where she had a good view of most of the space. There were all sorts of nooks and crannies, but she was just going to have to take a leap of faith.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was considering giving up and heading back to the common room. Perhaps this hadn't been a set up, but it didn't look like Malfoy was going to show up to give her those well-deserved answers. Typical Slytherin. She pushed off from the wall, determined to leave.

"Going so soon, Granger? Pity." Hermione started and whipped out her wand. Malfoy emerged from the shadows just in front of her, looking bemused. She glared at him, furious that he had jumped out at her like that.

"How long have you been there? Why didn't I see you come in?" She lowered her wand slightly, but didn't budge in her defensive stance. She glanced at him warily.

"About ten minutes. Though I didn't think those were the questions you wanted to ask me." He walked past her to the edge of the Tower, looking out on the grounds below them. Hermione watched him, but didn't move. Instead, her brain worked at a mile a minute constantly doubting his sincerity. Would he be honest with her? Why had he been waiting so long to only appear when she was about to leave?

"No, those weren't the questions…" she paused, wondering how far she should go.

"Go on then. That little know-it-all brain of yours must be bursting with curiosity. How on earth did the Slytherin Prince wind up in such a state? Dabbling in the Dark Arts? Duelling without supervision? Or the most troubling question, is he a Death Eater? Did you just help the enemy?" He didn't face her as he spoke, but Hermione noticed the way his jaw stiffened at that last bit. Suddenly, she felt very foolish and callous. No matter the reason for his predicament, he had been gravely injured. She was right to help him. She was not a villain.

"Those weren't the questions either." She replied, moving towards him slowly as one would do with a wounded animal. And they actually hadn't been the first things on her mind when she entered the library. Naturally, she had wondered what had happened when she saw him that night, and how it came to pass, but at the library she had been more concerned with how he was healing. Which she promptly told him.

"I was more curious about my handiwork. I haven't done many healing spells. I wanted to see how the wound was progressing." By this point she had reached his side.

He finally tore his gaze away from the horizon to stare at her in disbelief. Tentatively, she reached for the arm of his robe.

Without breaking eye contact, she asked "May I?" and gently rolled up his sleeve at his cautious nod.

She let out a hiss when she saw the jagged lines across his forearm. They were red and looked raw, but healing.

She didn't look up as she gently ran her fingers over them.

"Perhaps I should get you a salve…" she murmured. Finally, she looked up to see Malfoy eyeing her with the most peculiar expression.

"You've done enough Granger." He roughly pulled his arm away and yanked down the arm of his robe. She frowned at him.

"For a moment there, I actually thought you _appreciated_ my help. My mistake." She was tempted to turn and leave him there. What had she expected? That he would turn around and thank her again? Make her his confidante? Yet leaving felt too much like giving in.

"Which healing spells were you using when I found you and why didn't they work?" If he was surprised by her question, he didn't show it. Hermione had surprised herself by asking it first. There were so many other important questions to ask, yet that had been the quickest out of her mouth.

"It wasn't a healing spell. It was a stasis spell. I was trying to stop the damage from spreading. If I knew why they didn't work, then I wouldn't have been using them in the first place." He moved away, putting some distance between them. "Why did you use the stitching charm?"

Hermione was startled at the question. She had come seeking answers. She hadn't expected to have to answer any questions herself.

"It's what came to mind. I needed to close the wound." What she didn't tell him is that it's what Muggles did. Muggles stitched their wounds.

He looked at her hard and for a moment she thought he knew her thoughts. Saw that her instinct was both Muggle and witch. But instead of sneering at her or scoffing or reminding her of how far below him she was, he simply nodded.

Deciding to push her luck, she asked the question he had been expecting from the start. "How did it happen?"

He shot her a dirty look. It seemed as if sharing time was over. Still, though, she persisted.

"I'm simply asking because, loathe as I am to admit it, you aren't half bad with a wand Malfoy. In most circumstances, I think you'd know how to heal yourself." He smirked at the faint praise and then his gaze darkened.

He turned from her and was silent for so long that Hermione thought he wasn't going to answer her. Just ignore her forever. It seemed though that Draco Malfoy did need a confidante. Needed someone to talk to. And somehow, Hermione Granger had stumbled into the role. When he finally spoke, it was as if he was speaking to himself.

"Pureblood families. We all have our secrets. Skeletons in the closet. Crazy aunts locked in the attic." His voice was a low murmur, but Hermione saw the truth in his words.

 _Bellatrix Lestrange_. After her escape from Azkaban last year, it made sense that she would go to her sister at some point. And with Lucius now out of the picture… Hermione was beginning to see that life at Malfoy Manor was not what it used to be. Especially for the Slytherin prince.

* * *

Draco wasn't sure why he had come to the Astronomy Tower. Granger didn't deserve any answers from him. He couldn't afford to spill his secrets. To confide in a Gryffindor. And not just any Gryffindor. A member of the bloody Golden Trio. Bloody Potter's best friend.

They should be sworn enemies. He should be doing all he could to destroy them. Destroy her and her kind. And yet… she had helped him. Had helped him when his own family had done him harm. The past year had changed _everything_ for him. His family was falling apart and the past was coming back to haunt him. It was one thing when he was parroting the ideals he had been brought up with but now… He had seen blood. Torture. Death. His home was not what it used to be. His father was gone and his insane Aunt Bella was roaming the halls, casting curses at will. And the Dark Lord. At first, Draco thought it would be an honour to be a Death Eater. To follow in his father's footsteps. He realized now that he was following the shadow of a madman. There was no glory here. Only terror. And anger.

Oh he had been angry. It had been easy enough to direct that anger at Saint Potter, the Weasel, and the Mudblood. At first. But once he was away from the Manor - it was the Manor now, not home – and away from the madness, truth began to glimmer. He was angry, that was true. But with his insane Aunt Bellatrix. The Dark Lord. But most of all, his father. The man whom he had admired for so much of his life. The man who he had strived to be like. He was the reason Draco's life was in turmoil. If _he_ had never become a Death Eater in the first place, there may have been a chance of hope. As it were, there was nothing but a bleak future. However short that may be. For Draco didn't doubt that the Dark Lord did not expect him to survive this task. It was a suicide mission. But he had no choice. It was not only his life at stake. He threatened _his mother_. And if Draco thought for a moment that Bellatrix's loyalty would extend to protect her sister, this weekend proved otherwise.

A little coded owl from his mother had arrived, informing him that he would be coming back to the Manor on the first Hogsmeade weekend. It was the only way they could figure to get him out without a lot of notice. And when he had arrived… all hell had broken loose. With nothing to report regarding his progress, he had seen just how fragile his mother's place in her home was. And Aunt Bella hadn't hesitated to show her displeasure with him either.

After a round of curses, she had attacked his forearm with vigour, disgusted that no Dark Mark had been graced upon it. He didn't understand that. His mother had never been marked.

He was grateful that she hadn't seen what Bella had done to him. He managed to leave without seeing her again. A punishment for her, yes, but a blessing too. If his mother had seen what her sister had done to her beloved son it would have destroyed her. And she was in enough straits as it was. Draco hated adding to her burden. He had the freedom of Hogwarts while she was trapped within the house walls.

He hated to admit it, but he was grateful for Granger's help too. If she hadn't arrived… well he would have survived but the next spell he had planned wouldn't have been pretty. In his panicked state, he hadn't been thinking clearly. He had been thinking emotionally and that was part of the problem. He couldn't shut off the anger. Couldn't shut off the fear. The stress. He couldn't escape any of it.

His snarky conversation with Granger earlier had been the closest thing to _normal_ he had experienced in months. He had liked it. It just seemed so right. The little goody-two-shoes helping him. His attempts to fend her off. He wanted to hold onto those moments like a life-line. Something that finally made sense in this whirlwind that was now his life.

He felt her waiting jut behind him, expecting him to say something. Anything. He sincerely wished he had it in him to comply. But he felt only emptiness. He couldn't confide in anyone. Especially not Granger.

"It can't be easy," her tentative voice broke through his reverie. Her attempts at empathy amused him. As if she could ever understand the burden he suffered. The task he had to conquer or else face death.

He let out a hollow laugh. "Don't bother trying to understand Granger. Even with your sharp brain, you couldn't possibly fathom it. And don't pretend you actually care. I'm sure you're on some fact-finding mission for Potter." The words were filled with venom. Draco noticed the flash of hurt cross Hermione's face and felt a twinge of regret. He hadn't meant to be so mean. In fact, he actually felt gratitude towards Granger. For treating him as she would everyone else. For not letting this bloody war affect everything.

"You're right!" Hermione snapped angrily. His hurtful words had only wounded for a moment. Because in some ways, she _was_ on a fact-finding mission. It was answers she was seeking after all. But that didn't excuse his behaviour. "How could I possibly understand the stress you must be under? We fall on opposite sides of this war, and I am quite aware of that Malfoy. But if you believe one side is all sunshine and roses, you are sadly mistaken." She entreated upon his personal space and poked at his chest. "It is _my kind_ you hate, or have you forgotten? That makes me a significant part of this. And the hatred is cast upon me. I have worked my arse off for the last five years, trying to prove myself. But it's not worth it. Because there will always be people like you who think you are better because of your blood."

Hermione yanked his injured arm towards her. "I've seen your blood Malfoy. I've actually kept it from spilling out all over the floor. And let me tell you, it looks the same as mine." She angrily flung his arm away from her, determined not cry. It was just so stupid! Blood purity and all the ideals that went with it. "People will die Malfoy. People like you. People like me. But in this moment, we live outside of that. Within these walls, we are all Hogwarts students. We are the same."

Having said her piece, Hermione turned and walked away from Malfoy, head held high. She was so far down the stairs, she was lucky she heard his reply.

"I think people like me need people like you Granger." The words were spoken so softly that Hermione wondered if he'd meant for her to hear them at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione idly stirred her tea while she crossed items off her list. She shouldn't be doing this. But when the opportunity presented herself, how could she refuse? After a few days of resiliently not thinking about Draco Malfoy and their encounter (as she was calling it), she found herself surreptitiously glancing in his direction during Potions. The first few times, she tried to ignore it. But time and again she noticed him discreetly rubbing at his arm. His movements were slight, but she'd picked up on them. Scratching, she'd bet. And she couldn't help but worry that the wound had developed an infection.

The idea of the salve flashed through her mind again in that moment. It wouldn't be hard to get the ingredients. Professor Slughorn was hardly as observant as Professor Snape. He wouldn't notice a few missing items. Not that she'd need many. She had already, loathe as she was to admit it, looked into a few healing salves. Strictly research, mind. It was in her nature. Always needing to know the answers. She had most of the things she'd need in her own stock. Aside from the porcupine quills and the fluxweed, she had everything she'd need. Except for a place to brew. Naturally she wasn't keen to use Moaning Myrtle's bathroom again. That ghost had quite the crush on Harry and it wouldn't do for him to find out she was brewing potions to help a Malfoy. Harry wouldn't understand her need to help. He saw things in black and white.

And then Slughorn had offered her the perfect premise. He needed assistance brewing some potions for the Hospital Wing. She'd practically leapt at the chance. A perfectly normal thing for her to do. The boys hadn't been surprised at all. Though Slughorn had seemed to want Harry, the teacher's pet since he'd found that wretched potions book, he had been content with Hermione's work. It wasn't as if many students were willing to give up their spare time to work in the dungeons.

So here she was on a Friday evening, brewing away. The Pepper Up potion hadn't taken much time at all, giving Hermione the chance to work on the salve. As both concoctions boiled in front of her, she took another sip of tea. The question was how to get it to Malfoy.

It was strange helping him like this. He was still obnoxious and rude in classes. Still wary and distrustful and hurtful as she'd discovered the other night. And yet something told her that his venom was no longer directed at her. She actually _pitied_ him. It was a strange feeling. But he obviously had no friends to help him. No one he could trust. He was trying to do it all on his own. And it would be admirable if it wasn't so sad.

Hermione openly cringed at that. Thinking of Malfoy's actions as admirable was insane. And yet… she had to admit that it reminded her of Harry in some ways. Not wanting to depend on anyone else.

And his quiet comment as she left the Tower. She was sure she had heard him correctly. And she was equally certain that he hadn't meant for her to hear him. But his words had struck a chord of sympathy within her. So here she was again. Living in the gray.

She dropped the porcupine quills into the potion. It wouldn't be long now. She started as a gentle pop was heard in the room and her empty tea cup disappeared. A house elf, she supposed. And just like that, Hermione had her answer. "A house elf…" she murmured as she scooped the salve into the waiting jar.

* * *

Hermione smiled and nodded as Harry and Ron spoke animatedly about the Quidditch tryouts. Ron was to be Keeper if all went well. She kept her eyes fixed on the boys, because if she didn't, she knew she'd look at him. He was watching her. She could feel it. Could feel his eyes burning into her from across the Great Hall.

She supposed that meant he'd received the salve. In an attempt at discretion, she ventured to the kitchens to recruit Dobby. Not to send the salve of course, that would be foolish. But to introduce her to some of the elves who did the laundry. They weren't very happy to meet the person who had tried to leave them items of clothes to free them. But they were willing to help her. Once Dobby had left, she had come up with the half-baked story that Malfoy had "dropped" the jar, but she would not deign to return it to a Slytherin. There was some tittering about the students "needings to like each other, they do", but the elves acquiesced to her request.

"Oi, why is Malfoy staring at us?" Ron's irritated voice startled Hermione from her concentration. She really needed to work on not getting lost in thought!

Harry glowered over her shoulder. "He's staring at me," he muttered darkly. "He knows that I know he's involved with Voldemort." Hermione swallowed audibly. She seriously doubted that Draco was staring at Harry under the circumstances. But it wasn't like she could come out and explain why, could she?

"Merlin mate, will you let it go? You have no proof. And if Dumbledore wanted you to worry about it, he'd have said something." Ron sat up animatedly in his chair as something behind Harry caught his eye.

"There's that McLaggen again. How am I going to go up against him? He thinks he's all that…" and just like that both boys were lost glaring at their opponents. Determined to put all of it behind her, Hermione rose from her seat.

"Well if you two are just about finished, I have the Defense paper to work on. If you were smart, you'd get to it too." Leaving them groaning behind her, she swept from the Hall. It was a good time to retreat. And yet… she casually glanced behind her. Just as she suspected. Malfoy's eyes had followed her as she departed. She met his glaze and held it for a second before hurriedly turning away. What was she doing? Looking back at Malfoy as if… well as if… as if he were worth looking at! Utterly ridiculous! Thank goodness Harry and Ron seemed oblivious.

She rushed to the library, determined to lose herself in her paper. Because when in doubt, one simply went to the library.

* * *

"What am I going to do 'Mione? McLaggen is sure to beat me at the tryouts," Hermione dropped her quill to focus on Ron's fretting and sighed. He'd really been lacking in self-confidence these past few weeks. This keeper position was so important to him and he was good, he really was. Or at least she thought so. Not that she knew much about Quidditch. She simply knew that he was a better choice than Cormac McLaggen. That arrogant oaf could get on her nerves faster than Malfoy.

"You'll do wonderfully Ron. You just need to believe that." Hermione patted his arm, wondering for a moment if he too was affected by the physical contact. There had always been something about Ron…

"Wish I could Hermione. I think I need to go practise some more. Maybe Harry'll come with me." Hermione sighed again as she watched him grab his things and leave. And then she felt it. That prickling sense of awareness. She looked over and there he was. Malfoy was sitting quite a distance away, but she was sure he had been looking at her. Discreetly watching her. It wasn't the first time.

Over the past few days, she'd noticed him watching her more often than not. It was disconcerting. In classes, in the library, in the Great Hall. And aside from that first day Harry noticed, Malfoy had managed to be more discreet. If Hermione hadn't felt that prickle… well she might not have noticed either. And of course, it helped that she'd been watching him too. For signs of infection, more injuries… perhaps she was overreacting just a tad. She'd done her part. Now she simply had to let it go.

Hermione determinedly returned to her reading. He could look all he liked. It wasn't as if he had even bothered to _thank her_ for the salve. It wouldn't have been that difficult. A discreet note, or an owl… but deep down Hermione knew those weren't really plausible. And it wasn't the first time she'd been underappreciated for her efforts. Why would Malfoy be any different?

* * *

Malfoy glanced in Granger's direction under hooded lashes. It wouldn't do for anyone to notice him looking at her. But for some reason, after all this time, he couldn't stop thinking about the Mudblood. Not a very healthy fixation for an imminent Death Eater.

He always knew she was a good-goody. Ready to help anyone in need, fix any problem. Yet he wasn't _her_ problem. She should have left him that night. Shouldn't have kept helping him after. Shouldn't have been so damned understanding. He thought he saw that in her gaze the other night. That got to him. Angered him, irritated him… confused him. Everything confused him these days. Nothing was what he thought it'd be. But she hadn't told Potter or Weasley. He wondered about that. Those three were a unit. And he knew that Potter had been keeping an eye on him. He wasn't oblivious. And yet she'd said nothing to him. It was obvious. If she had told him, there would have at least been some of that infamous Weasley temper. Potter wouldn't have been happy either. Which meant she hadn't said a word. About any of it. Strange that Granger was the person who ended up keeping his confidence.

He watched Weasley agitatedly grab his things and depart. He tried not to laugh. The fool was so concerned with the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. As if those were important anymore. As if anything other than the impending war was important.

Malfoy snapped his book shut. If he'd needed a reminder of that, he'd just given himself one. He didn't need to be thinking about Granger. He needed to think about the loathsome task before him. And the consequences he'd face if he didn't succeed.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco slowly climbed the steps to the Astronomy Tower. He found himself up there more often than not these days. He needed the solace and comfort of the abandoned space. But today as he neared the top, he heard the angry muttering and cursing of a very agitated witch. It surprised him to find her there first. A broken vase at the base of the wall hinted at what she had been up to. A murmured spell and the shards rose in the air and repaired themselves, only for her to throw it again.

"Violent much Granger?" he asked. She spun around, wand raised for the attack. He paid that no mind but he did notice the tear streaks on her cheeks. Damn it. Tears. Tears had always bothered him. They were a rare sight in the Malfoy home, barely tolerated. His mother's tears had always worried him, mostly because she so infrequently succumbed to them. It meant something was seriously wrong. He had a feeling that Granger wasn't the type to cry at the drop of a hat either.

"Not now Malfoy. Just go away and come back to finish your evil-doing later." She turned away from him and walked to the far end of the tower to gaze below.

"Why would I do that? I think you should head back down to your little friends. I'm sure Weasel and Pothead are more equipped to handle your state of distress. So go on, scuttle on like the little good girl you are. It will be after hours soon, and while I'd just love to have Snape give you detention, I really have more important things to attend to. So shoo." He wanted her gone. He wanted the peace of the Astronomy Tower and the Gryffindor Princess was not going to keep him from it.

"I _do not_ want to see him," Hermione hissed. She levitated the vase again and watched it crash, making Draco flinch. Finally, the truth glimmered. He had heard about the Weasel hooking up with Lavender Brown. It seemed a little pathetic really. Weasley really was quite the idiot. If he truly felt anything for Granger he'd be better off with her than wasting his time with an easy lay.

"Ah. I suppose this is about the Weasel and the Brown girl. It's all over the castle by now." Hermione stiffened and refused to turn around at his bait. He pressed on.

"You can't really be surprised. As much as I hate to admit it Granger, you're not exactly on the slow side. You must have known that things would never work out between you and Weasley." He surprised himself. He meant to sound condescending, but somehow it didn't have the sting he planned on. It still managed to have an effect though.

"Why is that Malfoy? That even a Weasley wouldn't demean himself by getting together with a Muggleborn?" she spat at him. She hated that his world revolved around blood status, it was revolting.

"Hardly Granger. Sometimes you really are daft," he snapped. He was going to have to spell it out for her.

"You really don't see it do you? Weasley's an idiot." He was not going to elaborate. Just because he'd been thinking a little differently about blood status of late, and about Granger in particular, didn't mean he was about to sing her praises or make her feel better.

"Hardly Malfoy! Ron is not an idiot! He's strong and loyal and-" he cut off her diatribe with a wave of his hand.

"That's all well and good, but we all know that without you he and the Boy Wonder would be floundering in most of their classes. And unlike him Granger, you are well aware of the danger that lurks ahead. If he was as smart as you want him to be, he wouldn't be wasting precious time with Brown."

Hermione paused and stared at him. It hurt to admit it, but Malfoy was _right_. If Ron wanted to be with her, he would have picked her. He wouldn't have hurt her so publicly. And with the war looming, was it worth it to be crying over someone who was certainly not pining over her? And was she truly in love with him? She hadn't made much of an effort to make her feelings known. It seemed that Malfoy had given her quite a bit to think about. Not that she was going to tell _him_ that.

"Why are you up here again anyway?" She switched topics. Malfoy had been oddly insightful tonight and she found it unsettling to say the least. Better to target him. Make him the subject of their discussions.

"Not really any of your business, is it Mudblood?" He replied coolly. He leant against a pillar, deftly avoiding her eyes and attempting to wait her out. One of them would leave eventually.

He was surprised when Granger swiftly moved upon him. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt again?" She tugged at his arm, attempting to look at that bloody wound again. "You look fine, but that could be misleading. I don't think you're feverish." She murmured those last bits, already zoning in on the problem at hand. He wanted to yank his arm away and treat her disdainfully, as he used to. Yet he found himself amused by her efforts. Not many people had fussed over him this way. His father was always impatient, considering all types of illness a weakness. And Malfoys were not weak. But look where being a "Malfoy" had gotten him. The one person he loved in danger and he on the path to destruction.

"I'm fine Granger. For now, at least," his attempt at humour went over her head as she frowned at him and stepped back. Sighing, he pushed back the sleeve of his robe. "See? Nothing there. All good." His skin had healed perfectly, thanks to that salve he had received. He knew that she had somehow gotten it to him. He wondered if he should mention it, but thought better of it. They were on strange, shaky ground here. And he hated to admit it, but he had been lonely of late. He wasn't about to scare off the one person he had somewhat confided in.

Hs friends, if you could call them that, still believed in the glory of the Dark Lord. And since his father's incarceration, they hadn't been all that friendly. He never realized how little respect they actually had for him. Or how little loyalty stood with them. It was strange. Loyalty was _supposed_ to be one of traits Slytherins shared with Gryffindors. Aside from Pansy – and he knew why _she_ was devoted to him – his other friends steered clear of him. And he had to admit, he did the same. Despite their behaviour, they were his friends. The less involved they were the better.

"So why are you up here?" She eyed him shrewdly, as if expecting him to launch an attack. He surprised himself by replying.

"I needed some time away. To think." He shrugged his shoulders and headed for the railing. He felt a sense of peace in the Astronomy Tower. Away from his friends, professors, classmates. Away from any reminders of the task at hand. Sometimes he felt like he was drowning in those halls.

* * *

Hermione watched Malfoy stare out at the lake. She could understand why he came up here. Her feet had led her here as she flew from the Common Room in her hurt and rage. There was something that was comforting in the isolation of the Tower. Away, yet still part of it all.

She wondered what he thought about as he stared into the horizon. It wasn't as if she was about to ask. They weren't friends or anything. Yet it didn't feel as if they were enemies anymore either. Something had changed that first night she found him. She didn't want to put a name to it, but she thought she might have seen a hint of respect in his eyes when he thanked her. It was boggling.

She thought she saw it again when he talked about Ron. And thinking about it, he _had_ complimented her in a roundabout way. What he said suggested that he thought that _she_ was too good for Ron. And wasn't that unexpected?

Her mind drifted back to Ron. The pain was still there, yes. But shockingly, Malfoy had managed to effectively distract her. That was surprising too. She suddenly realized that she probably shouldn't be hanging around the tower aimlessly. Malfoy had been right when he approached her. It would be after hours soon.

"I'm glad your arm has healed." She murmured the words, so as not to startle him. He didn't seem surprised that she was still there. He turned back to look at her, leaning back against the railing. Her eyes widened at his reckless action, but she wasn't about to say anything. At least that's what she told herself right before she opened her mouth.

"Lean forward, that's ridiculously reckless!" she snapped, her bossy nature and fear of heights overcoming her. He smirked at her, but stepped away from the rail. She turned away and shuffled her feet. She really should be heading back. But truthfully, she didn't want to. She didn't want to go back to the Common Room and see the pitying glances. She hadn't exactly hidden her emotions well. That was more of a Slytherin thing.

"I suppose I'll head back down now. Thank you for your insight," her words came out awkwardly. Hell, this whole situation was awkward. He raised an eyebrow at her. Holding her gaze, Malfoy did the most surprising thing. He made a helpful suggestion.

"You know, Granger, you don't have to go back there tonight." Her cheeks flamed. Was he suggesting? Of all the most outrageous..!

Draco burst out laughing, in what felt like the first time in forever. He had not been propositioning the witch!

"Don't be ridiculous Granger. Use that clever little brain of yours. I'm sure you'll find a room to give you exactly what you need for the night." He quickly passed by her, leaving her to herself in the Tower. It turned out he had left first after all.

* * *

Hermione woke feeling surprisingly refreshed. A night in the Room of Requirement had exactly fit the bill. She hadn't been ready to face Lavender or Ron last night. But this morning, her emotions were more in check. She was astonished to find that her heart wasn't as broken as it should be. Somehow talking to Malfoy and recalling the severity of the situation at hand made her realize the truth in his words. This wasn't the time for fleeting fancies. If Ron felt that he should be with Lavender, then he should be with Lavender. It stung, she wouldn't pretend it didn't. But the three of them couldn't afford to have a rift like in fourth year right now. There was too much at stake.

As the day progressed, Hermione realized that keeping the peace was going to be more difficult than she anticipated. Lavender was obscenely flaunting the relationship in her face in an attempt to rile her up, she was certain. Ron was behaving like a self-righteous prat and Harry had blinders on in his desire to stay out of it all.

So she did what she did best. She went to the library. And when she was done with her school work, she started on a new project. The incident with Malfoy had made her determined to learn as much as she could about Healing. She wasn't sure why she kept delving deeper and deeper into this mess. Into his world of pain and torture. But she had convinced herself that Draco Malfoy was not the only person who would benefit from her use of this knowledge. And so she studied. Healing charms, salves, potions… anything she might find useful for the coming war. The salve she had managed to get to Malfoy had just been a start. She couldn't talk about it with Ron or Harry, but it had opened her eyes to the reality of her lack of Healing knowledge. So she studied. She would be prepared should something happen. She spent hours reading, jotting notes, simply acquiring as much information as she could. Until she tired herself out. She tossed her quill aside as she closed another book, her sense of accomplishment accompanied by a desire to share her success with someone.

It was strange, but she wished she could talk to Malfoy. He seemed to listen to her in ways the others hadn't in the past. It wasn't as if they spoke a lot. Had numerous deep conversations. But it felt like they could have. And she missed talking to Harry and Ron. She was lonely. Usually she'd find her solace in books, but keeping secrets from the boys didn't sit well with her. It ate away at her conscious. And the more she thought about it the angrier she became. At Malfoy. At his father. And the bloody war in general. She was sixteen years old. She shouldn't be contemplating whether or not she had saved the life of a boy who would possibly attempt to destroy her in the months to come. No, she should be focused on her studies. On her weekend plans. Hell, even on Ron and Lavender.

As much as Ron and Lavender's behaviour irritated her, it didn't linger with her when they weren't in her sight. It was easier to put them out of her mind than it was to erase the image of Draco Malfoy bleeding on the floor.

That thought caused a frown to mar her features all the way to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Oh dear. Don't let them get you down. Frowns cause wrinkles you know, and that certainly won't help you attract another man." Hermione looked up at the Fat Lady's ludicrous comment.

"Balderdash." She snipped in reply.

The portrait heaved an overly dramatic sigh and swung open at the password. Some students were so touchy.


	5. Chapter 5

He had been gone for days again. It wasn't obvious. He missed classes on Friday, and the weekend passed without any sight of him. He could have just skipped Arithmancy, his lack of interest in it was clear, and then stayed in the Slytherin common room all weekend, but her instincts told her better. It had been a Hogsmeade weekend after all, the perfect opportunity to get away.

He was gone again and could be back any day now. She wasn't sure why she kept looking for him during her rounds. But it was Monday night, and she hadn't seen him in the castle at all today. Not that she'd admit she had been looking for him. Yet all she could think about was how bloody he was the night she had stumbled upon him in the Astronomy Tower. And she felt an inexplicable urge to find him. To reassure herself all was well. To hear him snarkily tell her off and goad her into an argument. To have him be _normal_. Why couldn't things be normal? Why couldn't she be normal? It wasn't normal behavior, seeking out a Malfoy in the dead of the night. And yet she wasn't ready to leave him.

The halls were quiet tonight. Steeling her nerve, Hermione climbed up the stairs, taking each step carefully as if they might fall from beneath her. When she finally reached the top, she felt a crushing sense of disappointment. There was no one there. She stood looking at the shadows cast by the moonlight and then abruptly turned around to leave. If she hadn't paused just then, still caught up in her emotions of the moment, she wouldn't have heard it. A faint sigh, not quite a moan but almost. Her heart leapt and she spun around again. This time, she moved further into the room, searching behind the stone pillars that were cast in shadows. And there she found Draco, sitting on the ground leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, his forehead covered in beads of sweat. Hermione couldn't explain the feeling of relief that she felt at that moment. He was there and he was alive and for some reason, that really mattered to her.

"Going to stand there mute forever, Granger?" he drawled. His voice was faint, but his annoying drawl was still there. "Pity, I had thought you had left, but now you refuse to even rise to the bait?"

Ignoring him, she knelt by his side and began running her wand above him, trying her best to discover what his injuries were.

"What are you doing? Will you stop?" he half-heartedly swatted at her wand. "What do you think you are, some sort of guardian angel?"

She looked up at him and snorted. "Not quite that, I assure you. But you obviously need medical attention, and since you refuse to seek out any of the professors or Madam Pomfrey, that leaves me to look after your sorry behind." She glared at him, "At don't swat at wands, that's stupid and dangerous! Now be silent while I try and do this. I'm not quite as adept at Healing as I would like to be, but I have been studying."

"Of course you have," he muttered, but ceased resisting while she finished. She sat back, puzzled. Nothing seemed technically the matter with him. No broken bones, no bleeding internally or externally, no residual effects of any curses or hexes that she could determine.

"I don't get it. I can't find anything wrong with you, yet you look like hell."

"I'm sure I could find at least a dozen girls who would disagree with you on my looks Granger," he had the audacity to wink at her. "But you won't find anything. As I said, your presence here is useless. There are certain curses and dark spells that can do damage without leaving any physical evidence. I'm surprised you don't know that."

Hermione glared at him. She'd been working so hard to prepare for this moment, should it occur. Studying in all her spare time. All to help _him_!

"You never said anything about my not being able to help you! And last time, you very well did need my help, despite your protests, so how was I to know that this time I might not be able to do anything? You should be grateful, yet you Slytherins don't even understand gratitude or thanks do you?" She suspended her tirade for a moment, as something he said dawned on her.

This felt good, he thought. For this first time this year something felt normal. Snipping with Granger, it was invigorating. He needed more. Oblivious to her train of thought, he replied snidely, "Maybe you Gryffindors should simply learn to mind your own business and stop trying to help every bloody person you meet. There are some of us your goody goody ways just can't help!" He was fully glaring at her now, and attempting to get up, wanting to luxuriate in her temper. She gave him a shove to prevent him rising and he slumped against the wall. She jumped up and began to pace in front of him.

"At least you finally admit that someone has been cursing you! So who has been doing this to you? Have you been on assignments for Voldemort and then been attacked or something?" She cried accusingly, her stomach churning. He shivered at the name, but Hermione didn't care. Part of her felt sick, knowing she had come to willingly help someone who may have just murdered a family of muggles.

"Just go back to your common room, little Gryffindor. There are things your sensitive ears just shouldn't hear." He closed his eyes, thinking she would take this as a sign for her dismissal. That timely reminder of his reality had been enough to ruin any semblance of normalcy he was feeling before.

"Don't you talk to me like that! I know very well that we are on our way to war Malfoy! Yet I can't help it! People we have known for seven years are soon going to be on opposing sides, killing each other, dying in battle, yet this morning I was just in class with them. It's not fair and it's not right, but don't think for a minute that I don't know that it is happening!" she whirled to face him, her eyes ablaze. "And there you stand, fighting with a demented wizard, yet I still feel the need to help you. Well forgive me, but I am not quite ready to be drawing lines in the sand, even if you have made your stance on people like me perfectly clear." She turned, determined to leave having had the last word.

Before she made it to the doorway, he had grasped her upper arm and spun her around to face him. He glared down into her face, but instead of yelling, his voice was low and hard as steel.

"You think this is so easy do you? To make decisions like this, to think about hurting people, killing people, do you think that it doesn't keep me up at night? But we can't just blindly run to defend the supposed greater good. There are other people involved, people I love, and I have to protect them." His grip on her arm tightened. "Potter should realize how lucky he is that he has no family to love or to love him. Love comes with an obligation and that's how you get stuck in circles like this. Do you think I want to see my mother tortured if I refuse to do as I am told? Tell me you haven't thought about it, "he gave her a shake "Tell me you haven't resented him just a little for putting you in a position like this. Tell me that you don't worry whenever you get the paper that you'll recognize a name there, or that you'll receive that blasted owl saying your family is dead." He came to a stop and stood breathing heavy and staring into her eyes. Hermione's mouth was agape and her heart broke for the pain she saw in his eyes. What he said made sense in a way. Unlike she or Harry, many families had their prior allegiances to live up to, which meant their children would be stuck on the path they chose, unless they decided to take a potentially dangerous chance by abandoning them.

"Malfoy, I didn't think-" he blinked at her, as if coming out of a trance. She reached towards him but he pulled away as if some spell had been broken. He hastily let go of her arm and stepped back.

"Of course not. Forget I said anything Granger. Doesn't matter in the long run anyway." He turned away from her, but Hermione couldn't let it go.

"It matters, Malfoy. We don't stop and think that maybe everyone has their own motives. That maybe actions aren't based in hate, but maybe in fear." She tentatively touched his shoulder. He didn't turn around, but didn't shrug her off either.

"I'd like to help you while I can. I know there is going to come a time when we will be on opposing sides on that battlefield, but for now, we can just make do with what is, and what we know is that I am the only person who can help you." He turned around to face her then, and just stared at her. As she stared back, she felt a surge of compassion so strong she couldn't deny it. She felt as if she was meant to find him that first day in the tower, that she was destined to help him. Odd for someone who didn't believe in Divination, but it was there all the same. Before she could say anymore, he jerked his head up and stared at the door. Within seconds, he had grabbed her and pulled her further into the tower, further back into the shadows where he had been hiding. He pressed a finger to her lips and pushed her into a crevice in the wall, crowding in beside her, so close that their bodies were pressed together. For a moment she couldn't process anything other than the feel of him, but her mind began to clear as she heard the faint sound of voices upon the stairways.

"I don't think anyone is up here Pansy," Hermione recognized Millicent Bullstrode's deep tenor.

"I'm sure I heard voices Millicent, and if we catch some Gryffindor up here, it will be worth the trek, don't you think. Especially when I turn them over to Snape," the glee in Pansy's voice was clear. She was obviously anticipating some sort of reward for her actions.

Hermione held her breath as their footsteps slowed when they entered the room. She stared wide eyed at Malfoy, who seemed to keep perfectly still very easily.

"No one Pansy, see? Not a mouse. This really was useless," Millicent grumbled. Hermione bit her lip to stop from smiling at the whine in Millicent's voice.

"Oh all right, not _here_ , but I know there was voices, so let's head back down and check the other class rooms…" Pansy's voice faded as the two girls made their way back downstairs. Hermione released a gentle sigh of relief at their departure. She looked up at Malfoy and let out a little giggle when she saw his serious expression.

"At least they didn't catch us," she whispered, still a little anxious that they might hear her and come back. "Malfoy?" she questioned when he didn't respond. He didn't say anything nor did he move so that they could leave the room. Instead, he just stood staring at her, his eyes darkening to a stormy grey. Even in the darkness, she noticed that his eyes were fixated on her mouth.

"Malfoy?" she questioned again, but this time it came out almost like a breathy request. Her heart was pounding and while a part of her said she should move away now, another perhaps stronger part wanted her to be closer. To reach her arms around him and- Before she could finish the thought, his mouth came down on hers, almost as fast and swift as a crack of lightning. Caught off guard, surprise was her first emotion. Her hands lingered by her side, shock keeping them still, but she couldn't keep herself from reacting for long. His mouth was firm and insistent, his hands on her hips pulling her flush against him. She felt her arms slip around his neck and pull him down closer to her. He responded by lifting her up and holding her against him with her back to the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she let go of his mouth to breathe. But that didn't stop him. He trailed kisses down her neck, than back up her jawline and back to her mouth for another taste. He felt so good, she couldn't think straight. The only words that would form in her mind were _more please_ and even that took some effort. And Draco seemed a man possessed. He held her closer, kissed her harder, didn't seem to be thinking at all and didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go. She laced her fingers through his hair and sighed out his name.

"Draco." She was surprised how easily it slid off her tongue. But his name coming from her mouth affected him as nothing else could have at that moment. He stopped, with his hands still clutching her behind and her hands still in his hair, to stare at her. Realization dawned in the moment she said his name. It was the first moment that she had ever called him his given name instead of Malfoy. Breathing heavily, they stared at each other in complete surprise. Hermione waited for the horror to come. She waited for the urge to scream, to push him off her and to run away back to her dorms. But it didn't come. Instead some sort of apprehension was unraveling in her chest. She was afraid of what was going through his mind. He broke eye contact and gently unwrapped her legs and repositioned her on the floor. Then without a word he dashed out the door.

* * *

Hermione made it back to Gryffindor tower that night in a haze. She was lucky she hadn't been caught as she wandered the corridors and she half-hoped that Draco had been responsible for removing Pansy and Millicent from the area to protect her.

 _Or to protect himself_ , the little voice in her head reminded her. Because he would not want anyone to know they had been together in the tower, let alone what they had been doing there. Hermione wanted to stop thinking about it, she really did. But her inquisitive nature wouldn't let the subject stray very far from her mind. She knew why she kissed him back. The answer was simple, she hadn't been thinking. The problem was she had acted purely on feeling and kissing him back felt right. It was simply a chemical reaction. A result of her teenage hormones. She refused to delve any deeper into her subconscious and changed directions. The real question was _why had he kissed her_ in the first place? Unable to figure that out, she had tossed and turned all night, then woke up the next morning feeling anxious about seeing him in the Great Hall at breakfast.

She needn't have worried. Draco didn't show up during the entire time she was there. And she was loathe to admit it, but she hung around for an hour. Unable to sleep, she had made her way down there before the boys woke up and waited for him to make an appearance. Forty-five minutes still no Draco and the boys finally trudged in. Ron plopped down beside her with a grunt of a "good morning" as he grabbed the nearest dish. Harry laughed and shook his head as he sat down.

"Morning Hermione, you're up early aren't you?" Harry grinned "Studying already?" He began to serve himself and Hermione stared at him blindly. Realizing that she was taking far too long to answer, she gave him an absent smile.

"Early bird and all that," she replied. She grabbed a muffin and a left aside _Prophet_ and hoped they wouldn't try to ask any more questions. As they began to discuss their latest Quidditch practice, Hermione felt herself getting choked up. These moments were rare and fleeting now. Did Draco ever have any moments of normalcy anymore? She'd heard that he'd practically abandoned the Slytherin Quidditch team and now that she thought about it he wasn't hanging around with his cronies as much these days. Even Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One managed to find time to laugh with his friends and forget, at least for a minute, the pressures to come. She knew, even if he wouldn't admit it openly yet, that he fancied Ginny.

Did Draco secretly fancy her? She snorted, she doubted it.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. Even Ron had stopped his gorging to look up at her. Apparently her snort hadn't been a silent one.

"Oh, something stupid in the paper. You know _The Prophet_ , always hiding their own agenda and thinking that the poor peasants won't understand them." She replied nonchalantly. Harry looked as if he wanted to question her further, when Ron interrupted, returning the conversation to Quidditch.

"You've got to do something about McLaggen, Harry! I'm sick of him hanging around our practices telling me what to do better," he complained. Hermione crumpled the paper and stood.

"I'll see you boys later. I want to make a quick stop at the library before Transfiguration this morning." She left without looking back and Ron's voice faded away. The way her thoughts were headed it wouldn't be good to be in their company right now. What if she let Malfoy's name slip? That would be trouble all around.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione could not possibly concentrate on the book in front of her. After days of avoiding her – for she was sure he had been – Draco Malfoy was sitting a mere few feet away from her. His eyes were firmly fixed on the book in front of him, not glancing at her once. At least that she had noticed. But here _she_ was glancing at him over and over again. Trying to act as if they had not recently shared an extremely passionate and reckless encounter was not working for her. She needed to speak with him. She needed something. A snarky comment would do it. It would restore the balance between them. Perhaps if she just wandered by… Hermione casually closed her book and rose from her seat. Attempting to look inconspicuous, she ventured towards the shelves closest to him, skirting around the table in an apparent attempt at avoiding him.

"Don't Granger." Hermione froze in her tracks at the quiet voice. She casually lifted a hand to a random book on Herbology. She was barely close to him, but she heard his voice all too clearly.

"Just getting a book Malfoy. No need to sound so tense or to issue orders," her words were the barest of whispers. She knew they couldn't be seen speaking to each other, and yet that hadn't stopped her from coming over here. Or stopped him from intruding. For his return to the library surely was a crossing of boundaries. Invading her space. Sitting only a few chairs away, but those chairs spoke volumes.

He didn't lift his eyes to meet hers, didn't raise his voice.

"No more Granger. No more meetings, no more help, no more talks. You should know better." Hermione stiffened at his words. The fact was she _should_ know better. She should know better than to interact with a Slytherin. With this Slytherin in particular. She swallowed audibly and firmly yanked the book from the shelf.

"Don't tell me what to do Malfoy," She hissed as she walked away. He looked up at her in surprise, but she walked away, refusing to look back.

Draco frowned and returned to his book. Didn't she understand that he was trying to help her? That kiss had been pure insanity. Fantastic, but pure insanity. He should never have touched her. Never have even spoken to her. And yet… he glanced in her direction quickly. Her head was bent over the large tome she had grabbed. He'd assumed it had been a pretense to talk to him. To come near him. Just like his being in the library was. He couldn't resist. He'd tried for days, determined not to look at her, not to think about her. But it was like an itch he couldn't scratch. He _needed_ to see her. To be near her. It was utter and inexplicable madness. And a very strong part of him couldn't regret it. Couldn't regret knowing how soft her skin was. How sweet her lips tasted. In that heated moment, she managed to drown out all the darkness inside him with her light. And he wanted more.

He started as he noticed Potter enter the library. It was time for him to leave. He felt the other boy's glare as he walked by.

"Hey 'Mione." Harry was speaking too loudly for the library and Hermione gave him a reproving look. Harry looked down sheepishly, but Hermione still set aside her book for her friend. As she looked up at him, she noticed the many female eyes darting his way.

"I don't suppose you've changed your mind about Slughorn's party?" Hermione cringed at the question. How could she have forgotten? In a moment of insanity, she'd agreed to go with Cormac McLaggen. She closed her eyes as she remembered. Ron and Lavender had irritated her so much that morning, and Malfoy had been avoiding her and she'd just given in. Oh how she wished Harry had come up with his suggestion of going together sooner.

Malfoy paused in his movements. He had been packing up his bag, but Potter had just mentioned Slughorn's party. A very petty part of him was irritated that he had not been invited. He wasn't half bad at potions. Much better than some of those he knew were attending. Yet another consequence of his father's actions. But Granger was going? Was she going with Potter? He "accidently" dropped a pile of papers to delay his departure.

"I don't think I can Harry. It would be frightfully rude…" Hermione worried her lip. She wanted to. Oh how she wanted to cancel on McLaggen, but couldn't find it in her conscious to do it. And a small part of her delighted in the idea of Ron's shock and anger when he'd find out.

Harry sighed. "That's alright. I'll figure out something. Too bad we can't go with who we want, right?"

Hermione frowned again. For she had to admit, she no longer wanted to go with Ron. A little slip of paper settled in front of Harry, followed by a fit of giggles from a set of 5th year girls sitting a few tables away. Harry glanced at it and crumpled it up. Hermione took the moment to peer at the blonde head disappearing through the library doors. No, she no longer wanted to go with Ron at all.

* * *

Hermione darted behind a large potted plant. What on earth had possessed her to agree to come here with Cormac? That boy was all hands.

She could hear the party going on around her and wished she could figure out a way of escaping discreetly. Harry was preoccupied with Luna. At least he had found someone suitable to attend with. She regretted her decision substantially. She glanced towards the entrance and found herself starting forward.

For there was Malfoy, being manhandled by Filch, and evidently being made a fool of. He caught her gaze and wrenched himself from Filch's grasp. She was too far to hear what was being said, but it certainly looked uncomfortable.

She was so caught up in the drama unfolding in front of her that she failed to notice McLaggen's approach. Until he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"There you are, you little minx," She turned to shrug out of his embrace and missed the hardened glare that Malfoy sent their way. Feeling uncomfortable, Hermione gave Cormac a brittle smile.

"There you are. I thought you were getting me a beverage?" Hermione frowned, hoping he'd get the hint and leave her be. Instead, Cormac smirked and leaned in close. "Why don't you come with me?" He reached for her again, but Hermione side-stepped him. "All right, I suppose I'll get it myself." Cormac trotted after her and Hermione fixedly kept her eyes out so as to avoid any of the dratted mistletoe that was hanging about.

By the time she'd managed to lose Cormac again, Malfoy was gone.

* * *

Draco looked out at the grounds below. He was thinking about her again. He'd never felt panic well up so strongly before. When he'd seen Granger standing there, if she knew what he'd been up to, he couldn't fathom it. It made him ill and not from the thought of discovery. He wasn't worried that she'd tell Potter. No, it was that he didn't want _her_ to know. Couldn't bear for her to know the truth about _him._ Couldn't handle the thought of losing his one confidant. She'd become his anchor.

He needed to stop. He needed to stop all of this before it got out of control. He wouldn't – couldn't – involve anyone else. At least that's what he had told himself as he avoided her gaze at Slughorn's party.

And then that dunce McLaggen had pawed all over her. He wanted to punch him. Which was ridiculous. He and Granger weren't an _item_. It was an insane reaction. But it was his reaction all the same. It wasn't as if _they_ could have gone together. It was an absurd thought. And he'd ended it all, hadn't he? He'd told her to stop meeting here.

He had more important things to worry about. Like Snape coming after him like that. He scowled. The man had been pressing him more and more. And Draco couldn't figure out his motive. Was it for the glory? There was no glory in this, not for Draco. Was Snape reporting on him to gain favour? Or was he sincerely trying to help him? Draco wasn't sure. Which was why he couldn't trust anyone.

Hermione tentatively entered the Astronomy Tower. She didn't know why she returned, but she couldn't keep away. Once she'd escaped McLaggen, all she'd wanted to do was find _him_. And so she came here. He had told her not to. But who was he to tell her what to do? He didn't acknowledge her when she entered. But she knew he noticed her arrival. He knew it was her. His back had stiffened slightly, but he didn't spin around and tell her to leave. Perhaps it was progress.

"I told you not to do this Granger." Perhaps not.

"Don't try and tell me what to do Malfoy. I don't respond well to orders." Oh why had she come?

* * *

Why had she come here? Draco gripped the rail until his knuckles were white. Surely she understood their predicament. And he couldn't look at her. She had looked beautiful tonight. Not that he would tell her that. No instead, he took a jab at her.

"Go back to your date. I'm sure McLaggen is charming," he sneered, still keeping his back to her. He heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Don't be ridiculous, you know I only agreed because…" she paused and her voice became incredulous. "Draco Malfoy, are you jealous?"

That was enough to get him to look at her. He spun around, his eyes narrowed to slits, intent on telling her off. But then he saw her. Did she have to look so bloody appealing? She was right. He _was_ jealous. Not that he'd tell her so.

"Of McLaggen? I told you to do better than Weasley!"

"And you meant you?" she didn't sound incredulous anymore, simply curious. And a bit intrigued. Perhaps interested. Not that he should be noticing these things.

"I couldn't could I?" he snapped. And he was angry that he couldn't. Angry that he couldn't have a beautiful, intelligent, and bright witch as his date because of his family and this bloody war.

"Oh, that's right." She crossed her arms and huffed angrily. "You couldn't possibly be interested. I mean I can do better than a Weasley, but I'm not fit for you, is that it?"

And suddenly Draco couldn't rein in his frustration any longer. He angrily strode towards her.

"Yes, that's exactly it Granger. Because you're beneath me! Isn't that right? Isn't that what I'm supposed to say? What I'm supposed to believe?" He grabbed her arms and stared at her, his eyes full of desperation. "I _have_ to believe it. He has my mother, do you get that? And I don't know what to do anymore!" He had slowly been closing the gap between them, even as his words bled with anguish. As if he needed her close. As if he needed her comfort. Hermione stood with her mouth slightly agape, her heart squeezing with sympathy.

She couldn't forget. He couldn't forget. This was so much bigger than a schoolyard crush. So much bigger. So many risks…. _His mother_. She trembled as she thought of her own parents. Her desire to protect them.

Draco blinked as if coming out of a trance. Noticing how close they were, Draco dropped his hands and backed away, as if scalded by the touch.

"Stay away Granger." She instinctively stepped towards him. For some inexplicable reason, it hurt her to see him in so much pain. This was not the Draco Malfoy she knew. He was scarred. Haunted.

"I can't." she whispered. She hated to admit it. She should steal her resolve and leave him. But she couldn't. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her heart shouldn't have raced at the simple touch.

She silently urged him to turn back to her with a simple touch. When he finally faced her, she slid her hand down and gripped his hand. As if by its own accord, his thumb gently stroked her palm. But his eyes remained lowered and guarded.

"I can't stay away. I don't know why." She confessed quietly. He looked at her then, his eyes as hard as granite.

"You need to try harder." His words were hard and uncompromising.

Frustrated, Hermione dropped his hand and stepped back. "I need to try harder?" she snapped. "You kissed me remember?"

He glared at her. "It's not like you didn't kiss me back Granger. You were all over me!"

"That's not the point!" A blush stained her cheeks at the memory. "You stand there, telling me it falls on me to resist when you're just as responsible!" He opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione kept going.

"And coming to see me at the party tonight! Watching me all the time! Invading the library!"

"The library is for students, Granger." Even Draco knew that his defense sounded weak.

Hermione ignored him. "And your comments. About Ron and McLaggen! I only went with McLaggen to irritate Ron, but you're the one who was in a jealous snit!"

Suddenly Draco saw red. "Is that what this is? A way to get back at Weasley? Is this some sort of game to you?!" he yelled, moving in closer until they were a heartbeat apart. He wouldn't touch her, but they were so close that their breath intermingled. Offended, Hermione's ire rose.

"Do you think I want this, want to want you?" she hissed, putting a hand on his chest, shoving hard. He didn't move an inch. Instead, he covered her hand with his and trapped it on him.

"I don't want to want you! I don't want to worry about you, to even think about you, but there you are sneaking into my thoughts at any bloody moment and I can't get rid of you!" he growled, his face contorted in a snarl. Before she could reply, he yanked her against him so that their bodies were flush against each other. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, and was suddenly lost in the feel of him.

"And I don't think I want to get rid of you," he murmured. With that surprising admission, he crashed his lips down on hers. Inexplicably, Hermione moaned and pulled him closer. She tangled her fingers in his hair and forgot about breathing. Forgot about everything. He nipped at her bottom lip, demanding entrance and she let him in without a second thought. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, lifting her so her toes brushed the ground.

He broke away from her as suddenly as he had kissed her. His arms kept her in place as he leant his forehead against her. They stood there breathing heavily, still immersed in a seductive fog. He brushed her lips with quick urgent kisses, not as deep as the first, but just as demanding.

If they hadn't heard the clang and Peeve's voice echoing up the stairways they may have stayed entwined like that forever. At the sound of his devilish cackle though, the fog cleared and they sprung apart.

Hermione backed up until she hit the wall, her eyes never leaving his, her breathing still erratic. Draco stared at her, somehow his expression was already guarded.

"What _was_ that?" she finally managed to breathe out. Her knees were shaking, her heart was pounding, and her brain was whirring at a mile a minute trying to figure out what had just happened. Because she feared she had been just lost in a moment of passion with Draco Malfoy. Again.

Instead of answering, he just stared at her. His eyes roamed over her, from head to foot, taking in the mussed hair, the flushed cheeks, the lips swollen from his attention, and all he could think was that he had never been more attracted to anyone in his life.

Hermione didn't know what compelled her, but as he stared at her, she reached up and brushed the hair back from his eyes. The zap of electricity between them did not go unnoticed.

"What is this, Draco? What are we doing?" Hermione asked. As always, she needed to know the answer.

"We're doing this," Draco said and kissed her again. He let her go abruptly and before she even opened her eyes she knew he had left.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat as she entered the Great Hall. He was there. Sitting at the Slytherin table while Pansy chattered away beside him. She felt a flush rise to her cheeks. She hadn't slept well the night before. Draco Malfoy had kissed her. Twice. And she'd enjoyed every second of it. In fact, she didn't think she'd mind doing it again. Her lips tingled at the memory.

She slowed her steps as she walked in. She shouldn't want to do it again. But it was this first time in her life she'd ever experienced this type of passion. It was invigorating. Exciting. Why shouldn't she live in the moment, at least for a little while? Her brief kiss with Viktor couldn't compare. It had been a pleasurable experience. But it didn't make her heart race and her nerves tingle. Thoughts of Viktor hadn't kept her up at night. Thoughts of Ron had never consumed her in the same way. And neither had provided the challenge that one Draco Malfoy did.

She'd spent hours last night replaying the entire moment in her mind. Replaying everything that had led up to it. She couldn't deny it much longer. She most definitely had feelings for Draco Malfoy. She wasn't even sure when it had happened. He was her enemy, had been for so long. It wasn't as if it had hit her out of nowhere. He'd always been a significant figure in her life. From the moment she started Hogwarts, he'd been a thorn in her side. His opinions of her had only motivated her to work harder, be better. He'd been her challenge from day one. And now it seemed he was something else. Something more.

She recalled his words from the night before. She'd gone over them endlessly. He _thought_ about her. Worried about her. It appeared that she'd invaded his thoughts as much as he'd invaded hers.

She slid into her seat. The hall was quiet, seeing as it was so early. Deciding to take a chance, she looked over at the Slytherin table. Pansy had moved on, bored with Draco's apparent lack of attention. Hermione allowed herself to simply look at him, just for a moment. The way his fine blond hair fell across his forehead. His firm mouth, now set in a frown, and how it had felt against her own. His eyes. Those sharp grey eyes, full of intelligence, because yes, Draco was intelligent. He was second to her in most of their classes.

Those eyes, she noticed, were turning a stormy grey now. She blinked as she realized she'd been caught staring. Draco held her gaze. Then his lips curved in a slow, sexy smile. It was gone in a moment. Hermione flushed again and made herself turn away. But she couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips as she did. Because a look like that should mean only one thing. That they were going to do it again.

* * *

She was nibbling on the end of a sugar quill when Harry finally made an appearance. He looked worn out and tired, as if he too had a restless night.

"Where did you disappear to last night?" he asked as he plopped down in the seat next to her. "I was looking for you. Needed someone to talk to at that party."

Hermione grimaced. She'd almost forgotten about the party. And about Cormac's less than appreciated attention. "I had to escape. Cormac was hardly pleasant company." Harry cringed in a show of sympathy.

"Yeah, he did seem rather… handsy." Harry struggled to get the word out and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"That's one way to describe it. I just ducked out as soon as I could. Left him stuck under some enchanted mistletoe." It hadn't been very kind of her, but she wasn't going to be the one helping him out with a kiss.

Harry grinned. "Quite crafty of you Hermione. Come to think of it, I think I saw him leave with a seventh year Hufflepuff. Perhaps you're off the hook."

Hermione sighed in relief. That would be welcome news. The last thing she wanted was more of Cormac's attention.

"How did it go with Luna?" Hermione asked, keeping up the nice easy flow of conversation. This was nice, she thought. Just talking with Harry about everyday things. It seemed as if so many of their conversations tended to turn serious these days.

"Fine. Luna was… Luna." He shrugged and smiled. As suddenly as it came, the smile disappeared. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something I saw last night. Now before you bite my head off, hear me out."

There went nice and easy, Hermione thought. And so Harry turned the topic to a more serious matter. In particular, a serious matter concerning the one person she couldn't talk to him about. And Hermione felt her heart freeze in her chest.

* * *

Hermione had been distracted all day. Her thoughts had been consumed with the words of one Harry Potter and the eyes of one Draco Malfoy. Despite Harry's intentions to have a thorough discussion with her about Draco, the two of them had been interrupted by a scowling Ron earlier that morning. Just as she had expected, Ron had been furious that she'd gone with McLaggen. Not that it mattered much anymore. She frowned and then grimaced as her books toppled from her arms. She was late as it was. And she was never late. The halls were practically deserted and she had yet to make it to Arithmancy. She'd taken this deserted hall because it was supposed to be a shortcut to the classroom. She sighed as she bent to retrieve her texts. And was visibly surprised when a blond head appeared beside hers.

Draco silently handed Hermione her books. They were alone in this hallway, with little chance of being seen. As it was, they were tucked away in the shadows. It didn't seem right to just leave her. She was visibly distressed. He had noticed that Weasley had looked particularly unpleasant that morning and wondered if he was the reason for her upset. It was a reckless move, helping her here in the halls. But things had shifted between them. And he wasn't such an oblivious oaf that he wouldn't stop to help a witch in need. Especially a witch he'd kissed senseless the night before. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do about that.

Hermione held her books to her chest. She wasn't sure if she should smile at him or thank him. Was that allowed? What were the rules for their interactions outside the Astronomy Tower? She just didn't know.

"Here Hermione." He handed her a book, as he murmured his words so only she would hear. "Did Weasley upset you? You don't look-" he paused at the startled look on her face. "What is it?"

Hermione stared at him. "My name. I think that's the first time you've actually called me by my name." It shouldn't matter. Saying one's name shouldn't be this moving. Yet somehow, it managed to change everything. She found she liked it. The way her name rolled off his tongue.

Draco paused. What to tell her? When had she changed from Granger to Hermione? He wasn't sure. It had happened so suddenly. And in his thoughts, he'd often referred to her as Hermione, even if he didn't voice it.

"Well, you've called me by mine," His voice was husky and Hermione flushed. She had called him by his name in the heat of the moment. "A few times now, actually."

"It's probably about time…" she murmured, self-conscious. How strange to feel that way now! After everything. "Time! Oh drat, I do need to go, Arithmancy you know." She felt the words rush out of her. She did need to leave. She was late. But oh how she wanted to stay.

"You should go on then. We really shouldn't be standing around here anyway." Draco suddenly tensed as he realized _where_ they were. Out in the halls, where anyone could see them. That was a problem. As much as he wanted to be with her, he couldn't simply because it was too risky. It was reckless. Dangerous.

"Well then." Hermione shifted her bag and smiled softly. "Thank you Draco." Her soft smile was like a sucker punch. So sweet. Too sweet. She scurried away and he sighed with relief.

Because she hadn't asked. She'd been so distracted that she hadn't considered the fact that he was in her Arithmancy class. And hadn't thought to ask why he was heading in the opposite direction.

She'd notice soon enough. That thought set his stomach churning. Because she'd notice that he'd skipped class again. And she'd start to wonder.

* * *

They found themselves alone again. No injuries to speak of this time. Together they sat in the Astronomy Tower, just looking at the vast expanse of sky and all the twinkling stars. Hermione wasn't sure what had brought her back, especially now. Harry had told her. He'd told her what he'd overheard between Professor Snape and Draco. Perhaps she had known all along. But she'd still gone to him. Still offered to help him. And was still here now. Yet she couldn't be angry with him. Because while she'd heard what Harry had said, she'd also heard Draco. Things weren't quite what they seemed.

She was less sure of what made her stay. She was scared to think about it. But moments like this were devoid of rational thought. Sitting in the tower, it was almost like they were equal. Like they were two normal teenagers and there was no war brewing all around them.

Draco looked at her briefly and felt his stomach sink to the floor. She knew. Or at least suspected. He could tell by the wariness in her gaze. It felt like a blow to his chest.

Abruptly Draco broke the silence.

"What would you do if you were me?"

Hermione glanced at him. She no longer saw an adversary. Only a boy who had lost his way in a thicket too entangled to get out of.

"I can't say," she replied slowly, "If I was in your shoes, my life would be entirely different. You and I weren't raised at all alike. Our values are different, our backgrounds are different…" she drifted off and thought of the memory altering spell she had planned for her parents.

"But," she continued, "I would try to save those I love too. Isn't that what we're all trying to do?" Draco stared at her, his inner turmoil obvious on his face. Not breaking eye contact, she reached out and took his hand. Draco didn't pull away. Instead, he turned up his palm and let their fingers intertwine.

They sat like that for a long time. Hermione had no desire to break the silence. This moment was incredibly intimate. And to be sharing it with Malfoy… their relationship had definitely changed. Yet they hadn't even talked about their kiss. Well kisses. And it wasn't as if he had attempted to kiss her again. Something which had, if Hermione was honest with herself, disappointed her greatly. Not that she'd initiate mind you. No matter how much she wanted to. It should be unsettling, worrisome even, that Hermione Granger _wanted_ Draco Malfoy to kiss her again.

"Will you meet me here on Saturday night?" Draco's voice was so quiet, for a moment Hermione thought she had imagined it. Later, she'd rationalize that there was a Quidditch game Saturday afternoon and no one would miss her once the post-game festivities started. But at the moment, she answered instinctively.

"Alright." No qualms. No hesitation. A mistake? Possibly. He turned to face her and Hermione noted the surprise flicker across his features. He hadn't expected her to agree. Which made her all the more curious.

"Alright." He echoed her words and let a small smile grace his lips. "Eight o'clock Granger." She felt his thumb brush across her wrist before he let go of her hand. He left her lying there thinking alone. Wondering how it always seemed that he managed to leave her first.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione hesitated as she reached the entrance to the Astronomy Tower. She had hurried from the Gryffindor Common Room, giving Ginny the excuse of needing to get away from the noise if the boys asked. Not that they would. They were celebrating their win against Ravenclaw and would continue to do so for hours to come.

"Hello." Hermione stepped further into the Tower. Draco's silhouette was visible in the moonlight. He turned slightly at the sound of her voice, as if it had broken his reverie.

"You came." She detected slight disbelief in his voice. And perhaps a hint of pleasure. She moved closer to him. The moonlight flooded the space. All light and shadows.

"You asked me to." She replied simply. He looked at her now, his face unreadable.

"I know, but I never thought that -" he broke off and stared at her. She gave him a small wary smile. Hermione wasn't exactly sure why she came either.

"Wait here a second. There's something I want to do… with you."

Hermione nodded and turned to look at the view of the grounds. Snow covered almost every inch of green space, the lake frozen through. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as if she could feel the chill. She felt rather than heard Draco come up behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders, as he placed a cloak on her.

"You're cold. I'm glad I thought to bring this." She turned back to face him as he reached out his hand. "Come with me." Hermione slipped her hand into his, and felt the familiar electricity that sizzled between them. It was as if their hands clicked into place, as if they fit. It took her a moment to see the broomstick. And then she froze.

"Oh, but I…but I can't." She stopped in her tracks and was tempted to pull her hand away from his. His eyes hardened and he let go.

"So you don't trust me. I knew it. I knew it was crazy to think –" He turned away from her, striding away from the balcony. Hermione wasn't about to let him go so easily.

"I do. I trust you." He turned around marginally at her words. "I'm just afraid of flying." She confessed, avoiding his eyes. She was ashamed to admit it, since her fear lacked the typical Gryffindor bravery.

He placed a finer gingerly under her chin and tilted her face up so that she was looking into his eyes.

"You trust me?" he asked, he words a gentle whisper, touched with disbelief. She stared into his guarded gray eyes.

"Yes Draco. I trust you." Surprisingly, she meant it. When she had come to trust Draco Malfoy, she didn't know exactly. But she knew, at least for tonight, that he had no intention of harming her. He pulled her close, and then took her back to the edge of the balcony.

"Then you don't have to be afraid. I promise I won't let anything happen to you." He gestured to the hovering broom. Taking his hand, Hermione gingerly mounted it.

When Draco stepped back, Hermione felt the beginnings of panic stir. She was on a broom. She was on a broom and soon would be in the air. She needed to get off. She needed to tell Draco she couldn't — her thoughts cut off as he mounted the broom behind her. His arms gathered her close to his chest and Hermione was suddenly very aware of the intimacy of their positions. It hadn't dawned on her at first that they'd be this close. Her breath caught. Every other time they had been this close together, they had… well she had wanted it to happen again after all.

"Hold on," he murmured the words in ear as he kicked off the ground. As Hermione felt the ground disappear from beneath her feet, even the proximity of Draco's body to her own couldn't entirely diminish her fear. Her irrational fear of flying which she hated to succumb to. It was hard to explain such a fear in the Wizarding World, where flying was such a natural part of life.

Draco felt Hermione stiffen the moment they took off. She had keened forward, away from him, as if trying to dismount midair. He gently used one arm to pull her back to him, keeping his other firmly trained on the broom. It was strange that she was scared. Somewhat reassuring, he hated to admit. For he had been scared for so long that he had forgotten that others could feel that way too. And for once, he was able to soothe. To help diminish those fears.

"I've got you. Just lean back into me. Close your eyes." Hermione's heart was thudding as she tried to listen to Draco's instructions. He had pulled her tightly against him, and she felt herself relax into his embrace. She leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes closed. She focused on her breathing and inhaled his scent. And soon her mind had something else to focus on. She felt the wind on her face, and even though her feet were dangling in midair, she felt safe. Draco wouldn't let her fall.

"I won't let go," his words tickled her ear. She smiled. For the moment, she felt safe. Surprising really, after everything they were in the middle of and who she was with, but she did feel that way. They flew around the grounds, getting farther and farther away from the castle. And as they flew, she felt a sense of freedom she had never experienced before. Maybe it was the flying, or maybe it was the distance from the prying eyes, but she felt _good_. It felt good to be here with him like this. Feeling more confident and secure than she ever had on a broom, she allowed her eyes to flutter open. She didn't look down, she wasn't going to tempt fate, but she stared into the sky, watching the stars zoom past. Soon the stars were obscured by tree branches. They were close to the ground now, hovering in the shadows, near the place where the lake met the edge of the forest.

"Are we stopping? Why are we stopping?" She turned to look at him. She didn't want to stop. She wanted to fly with him forever and forget about all the things that she should be thinking about. About all the reasons why she shouldn't be with him.

He smirked. "For someone who professed a fear of flying, you seem to be eager to be back in the air as opposed to on the ground." Indignant, she was about to make a reply when he placed a finger to her lips.

"Come with me." He took her by the hand and began to lead her to the edge of the forest. They soon came upon a small clearing. The trees surrounding it glittered with icicles. The landscape shimmered in a glow of white and silver. It was a winter wonderland.

She graced him with a sincere smile as she turned to him.

"It's beautiful Draco. But why are we here?"

Draco smirked. "I thought it would be obvious Granger. I'll give you a minute to think on it." He walked into the clearing toting a small bag she hadn't noticed earlier due to her fear of the broom. That had captured most of her attention. The rest had been on the feel of him surrounding her.

Thanks to the beauty of magic, within minutes Draco had laid the most lovely winter picnic. What looked like a sheer silk blanket graced the ground. Champagne flutes, fancy silverware, and porcelain china floated delicately around him.

And finally Hermione clued in.

"Draco… is this a date?" At the question, Draco abandoned the set up and came to take her hands. He stared into those warm brown eyes and pulled her with him to the blanket.

"Well done Granger. They don't call you the brightest witch of our age for nothing." Hermione couldn't help but laugh at that. It all seemed too surreal at the moment. Unfortunately, their reality was crowding into her thoughts, and she couldn't supress her concerns.

"Draco, this is lovely, but -" Hermione broke off at the intent look in his eyes. They were alive, dancing sparks of silver. She wasn't sure if she had ever seen them like that. And all of a sudden she didn't want to think about all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

"We have talked for hours and kissed each other senseless. You've healed me and kept my secrets. I may not be able to take you to Madame Puddifoots" Hermione snorted at this and Draco grinned, "But I can do this. I can whisk you away for a night of pretend."

The unspoken fact that they needed to stay hidden away from prying eyes lingered under the surface of his words, but Hermione pushed away the thought. This night was theirs.

"Then I'm enjoying myself already." She sat down gingerly on the blanket. So this was how one was wooed by a Malfoy. Draco handed her a flute filled with pumpkin juice. She sipped it as she watched him fill her plate with bread, cheese, olives, plums, cherries, and little iced cakes. She nibbled a plum as he filled his own plate and then finally began to take in her surroundings. She suddenly noticed that the branches had been charmed to glimmer like twinkle lights. A good idea since the darkness would have definitely overcome them at this hour. And despite the frosty look of the trees, Hermione did not feel cold at all.

"You've done quite a bit of work here," Hermione gestured to the trees and her cloak.

"You're not the only one good with a wand Granger. I happen to know my fair share of enchantments." He settled in beside her, sprawled across the blanket, and popped an olive into his mouth. She smiled at his casual air and confidence. She hated to admit it, but she admired his magical abilities. Oh, she knew it had nothing to do with his blood. She knew of a number of purebloods who weren't nearly as skilled. And he had always been a match for her in classes. Except for this year of course. This year of his mysterious disappearances and preoccupations. Which she wasn't supposed to ask about or know about.

"Hey, hey," he leaned up and brushed her hair aside. "Don't fret. Not tonight. Forget about whatever it is that just put that frown on your face." He gave her a sexy grin and held a cherry to her lips.

"Open." She obeyed and took the cherry into her mouth, nipping his fingers with her lips. It was a dangerous game they were playing. This game of seduction wasn't something she was used to, but she found herself inexplicably drawn in.

He laughed at her playfulness and leant in closer. Taking the flute from her, he leant in towards her ear.

"Feeling playful, Hermione?" he murmured, then brushed his lips along her neck. She leaned into his kisses, closing her eyes, enjoying the moment, the electricity zipping through her. And then she lightly pushed him away. He tumbled back, and stared questioningly at her.

She gave him a cheeky grin "We're supposed to be on a date, remember? So that we do something _other than_ kiss each other senseless." She laughed at his expression. "Your words, Draco, not mine."

He pouted, which somehow he still managed to pull off, but then settled himself a little away from her.

"You're right. So let's talk. What are your thoughts on last week's chapter of _Quintessence_? Personally, I've spent more of my time focusing on the actual elements and bending them to suit my purposes…" he drifted off at the surprised and somewhat skeptical look on her face.

"You want to discuss our Charm's reading?" Hermione didn't mind discussing her studies. In fact, she'd rather enjoy the opportunity to hash out and dig into what they'd learned that week. But she had a very hard time believing Draco had any interest in this type of discussion. And wasn't he supposed to be wooing her?

He sighed dramatically. "Well, Granger, I thought you'd be up some academic discussion. But if you don't feel that you can keep up…" she nudged him with her foot and he laughed.

"Honestly? I'm trying to keep our conversation on neutral, non-aggressive topics. That leaves out the last Quidditch game, which would bore you anyway, Potions, Defence, family anecdotes, and a number of other topics which probably have hidden dangers for the two of us. So it was either a mutually enjoyable course reading or discussing your favourite sweets to purchase at Honeydukes. Trying to keep it light, Granger." He looked so serious for a moment that she feared she had spoilt his pleasant mood. He had made a, rather unexpected really, effort and she kept letting the real world interfere with their night of pretend. So taking his lead, she delved into the topic of his choice.

"You're right of course. I hadn't given much thought to the energy surrounding us before reading this text. But over the summer, I discovered another book which suggests…" and they were off. They talked in depth about Charms class, which naturally lead to discussion of other courses (except a few significantly charged ones of course) and then onto books they'd read outside the classroom. The Malfoys, it turned out, had quite the extensive library. Draco lightly breezed past the family reference to focus her attention on her one true love – books. And Hermione found herself totally absorbed in their conversation. She barely noticed as he moved in closer to her and was pleasantly startled when he brushed away an errant crumb on her cheek.

"You know, when you are interested in something, truly interested mind you, you are a fascinating sight Granger. Your eyes light up, you're filled with such energy. It's rather charming." He slowly tucked a curl behind her ear, his eyes focused on her mouth. It was already red from the fruit juices, and Draco found he couldn't look away. In fact, he hadn't been able to look away from her for quite some time. His gaze had been drawn to her repeatedly since that first night in the Tower. She was different from the girls he knew. Passionate, intelligent, compassionate, and realistic. She didn't hide from the reality of what was happening around them. He found that rather admirable. Most people were quite disillusioned about the entire situation. Yet when he was with her, reality was the last thing on his mind. He could forget, if only for a moment, the seriousness of his predicament. He found himself instead wondering if she would taste like the cherries and plums they had eaten, and decided to find out.

He leaned in and captured her surprised mouth with his own. This time, Hermione didn't resist. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Draco couldn't help but smirk against her lips. _Finally_. He wondered if she would ever kiss him back without hesitation. It had niggled at him for some time.

He gently eased her back onto the blanket, covering her body with his own. Her fingers tangled in his hair as their bodies touched. Fingers played, explored, brushing against clothed parts. Hermione sighed, lost in the moment as he trailed kisses along her neck and down her collarbone. He wanted to kiss her into oblivion. He wanted her to take him with her. For when he was with her, nothing else seemed to exist. But the more rational side of him had been prepared for this possibility. The twinkle lights began to flicker, the timely reminder he had set himself, the reminder of reality. He eased away from her, and grinned softly at her dazed expression. How he enjoyed that. Miss Hermione Granger appeared just as swept away as he was. Satisfaction bloomed. He had wanted that. He had wanted to impress her. To charm her, court her. As if there wasn't any reason why they couldn't be together.

"What's wrong?" she asked, reaching up to brush his hair back.

"Time's up, I'm afraid." He rose to his feet and offered her a hand. She took it and graciously got up.

"Oh, pumpkin time is it?" she brushed herself off and almost missed his confused expression. "Sorry, muggle reference."

He smiled and Hermione felt it in her chest. "You'll have to explain it to me sometime." The feeling intensified.

A murmured spell had everything around them vanishing back into the bag. Hermione felt a sense of disappointment as it all disappeared. It was as if this evening had never even happened.

They were both quiet as they mounted the broom for their return to the castle. Draco had affectionately kissed her forehead and then covered her head with the hood of the cloak. To keep her face from prying eyes, she knew. But it still made her stomach clench and her heart ache. They returned without issue. This time, Hermione knew, the churning in her stomach didn't have anything to do with her fear of heights. When Draco flew into the Astronomy Tower, he waited a moment, simply hovering with Hermione in his arms. This was bad, Hermione knew. Because before tonight, she could only imagine what a night with him would be like. Now she knew.

He dismounted and helped her remove the cloak. A perfect little gentleman. It made her grin. He was so proper sometimes, it was quite amusing. And, Merlin help her, he was charming. As if not wanting to end on a tense note, he turned back to her.

"Traditionally, I'd walk you to your dorm. But we're not quite traditional, are we?" He took her hand and brushed a tantalizing kiss on her palm. "Good night Hermione. Thank you for tonight." He left her standing there, her heart furiously pounding in her chest, her hand tingling from his kiss, and her mind whirring with the events of the evening.

Oh this was a dangerous game they were playing. She knew he could seduce her physically. Her reactions every time they kissed made that evident enough. But _this_. All of this. This evening of magic. He was ensnaring her heart as well. Each kiss was sweeter. Every touch was hotter. Somehow, this night made everything so much more. What was she going to do?

* * *

A.N.: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and added _In the Shadows_ to your various lists! I truly appreciate all the lovely reviews. This chapter may seem a little different from the rest, but it was intended as a step away from the "reality" of this fic. I hope you enjoyed it!

Flamelm, if you see this, I wanted to answer the question you left for me in _Morning_ , since I can't message you privately. At this time, I don't have anything published outside of fanfiction, but should that change, I will happily include the info in my profile! Thanks for the interest!


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione absently scribbled on the piece of parchment in front of her as she sat in the Gryffindor Common Room. She had been utterly preoccupied the past week and she knew the reason why. A certain Slytherin never strayed far from her thoughts. One moment she'd be full of anticipation and the next dread. Her emotions ran up and down like a rollercoaster. She didn't like it, but she didn't know what to do about it either. The boys would never understand. Things were strained enough with Ron considering the Lavender situation. Not that she cared about _that_. It was just that their behaviour was mortifying. But was hers any better? She may not be whispering sweet nothings in Draco's ear, but she was sure that the boys would react much more violently to her _significant other_. She paused in her ministrations. Was that what Draco was now? He _had_ taken her out on a date, but did that make them a couple? Could they _be_ a couple? Did she want them to be? It was all so confusing. Yet all so clear at the same time. Because despite their differences, despite the danger, she was still attracted to him. She still wanted to talk to him. Be with him. The other night had revealed an entirely new idea of what was possible. Of what they could be. And that was far more dangerous than anything they had done so far.

"Morning 'Mione." Harry plopped down beside her, looking drained. Hermione glanced at him in concern.

"What's wrong?"

Harry evaded her eyes. "Nothing really, just tired." Hermione frowned, but decided not to push him. She had enough secrets of her own for the time being.

"Looking forward to doing your Christmas shopping?" she asked brightly. This was the last Hogsmeade weekend before the holidays would be upon them. And while Hermione had a number of ideas for her friends' gifts, she had yet to purchase them. "I hear they have something new at Zonko's." Harry's eyes brightened considerably at the prospect.

"I'd almost forgotten! I better grab my cloak." Harry headed back up to the dormitory and Hermione watched him through worried eyes. After he passed Ron on the stairs, she noticed him rub his scar. Hermione frowned again, but her expression changed to one of surprise when Ron came and sat near her. While they were on speaking terms, they had only had conversations while Harry was about. She noticed that he was watching after their friend too.

"He had a bad night last night," Ron murmured to her. "Tossing and turning. Mumbling under his breath. I couldn't make out what he was saying. Think it has anything to do with his lessons with Dumbledore?" Hermione stared off in the distance, feeling her frustration mounting.

"Possibly. I just hope he's practicing his Occlumency. After last year…" Hermione bit her lip, feeling guilty. She knew how torn up Harry was about the death of Sirius and here she was practically accusing him of taking his responsibility lightly. And considering everything _she'd_ been doing… She chanced a look at Ron, but he didn't look irritated with her comment.

"Yeah… or I guess it could be Malfoy."

Hermione felt the beginnings of panic. "What?"

Ron glanced at her. "He told you didn't he? About what he saw with Snape? Since then, he's been keeping a close eye on them on the map. He's a bit obsessed really." Ron suddenly shot up. Hermione turned and noticed that Lavender had just come down the stairs. The girl glared at Hermione but she didn't care. If Harry was watching the map… things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

* * *

Hermione meandered through Tomes and Scrolls. She had left Harry and Ron at Zonko's and she had at least another hour before she was due to meet up with them at the Three Broomsticks. Ginny and Dean were supposed to be there as well. Something, she was sure, Harry was not looking forward to. Guiltily she hoped that this would provide enough of a distraction that he wouldn't notice that she was preoccupied. Ever since her conversation with Ron, her nerves had been a mess. Not only was there an increased chance of Harry discovering her meetings with Draco, Ron had reminded her of another possible threat. Draco was going home for the holidays, a home where she was quite sure Voldemort was residing. A master of Legilimency. Harry wasn't the only one who needed to practice his Occlumency. For all she knew, Draco didn't have any skills in that department at all. Concerned with the danger he'd be in, she had spent her first half hour in the bookstore subtly compiling a list of books on Occlumency to recommend to Draco. Not that she knew how she would get it to him.

Hermione headed for the exit. She had spent enough time in the bookstore and still had a number of presents to buy. She was just turning the corner when – _whap!_ Hermione spun around, wand raised. Seeing nothing, she gingerly brushed the remnants of what looked like a snowball from the back of her cloak. Scowling, she made to leave when another one hit her on the backside. Eyes narrowed, Hermione stomped towards the edge of the store. The back area was practically deserted and surrounded by trees. Though she highly suspected a certain set of Weasley twins had made an appearance, she held her wand in a tight grasp. This time she saw the ball coming at her from behind the trees and managed to dodge it. A glimpse of blond hair gave her a very good idea of who was throwing them.

"Little ferret," she mumbled. Glancing around, and noticing with relief that they were alone, she made after him. Once farther into the wooded area, Hermione called out to him.

"Are you absolutely crazy?" she hissed, looking around for his hiding place. "Someone could have seen you! Oomph!" Hermione's breath was knocked out of her as he tackled her to the ground. The snow cushioned her fall, but that didn't stop her from glaring up at him. Splayed out on top of her, he gave her a cheeky grin as he pinned her down.

"You know, you look quite charming when you're annoyed." He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, before gently rolling off of her. Hermione sat up in a huff, covered in snow.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked as she brushed herself off. She had tried to sound stern, but found herself amused instead. Evidently, Draco Malfoy had a playful side. Who knew?

"Not quite sure. Holiday spirit perhaps." He quipped. Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly. She knew he was being evasive.

Draco grinned devilishly at her. The truth was he didn't quite know what had gotten into him. He had been feeling relieved, for once, that he did not have to spend a Hogsmeade trip doing _his_ bidding. For once he was not attacking someone or working on something destructive. He was spending the day as if he were simply a student. He tried to ignore the fact that this was because he would be returning to the Manor in a manner of days and therefore would be expected to give an update then. No, he wanted to relish in his freedom a little while longer. He knew it would be short lived. So when he saw Hermione leaving the store, with no one around, all he wanted to do was get her attention. So he'd improvised. It had worked quite splendidly.

She stared at him now, trying to scowl, but he could see the corners of her mouth lifting in an amused smile.

"You didn't have to tackle me," She reprimanded, swatting his arm.

"Oh, I really did Granger." He grinned again as he took in her mussed hair and glowing cheeks. He really was quite pleased with himself. She froze as she heard the distinct sound of voices. Draco yanked her against him, burying them further in the snow. To a general bypasser, they would look like two students out for a snog. The voices faded, and Draco thought that snogging didn't sound like such a bad idea. He made to kiss her, but Hermione's hand on his chest stopped him.

Hermione looked at him with worried eyes. "What if someone comes looking for you?" Draco brushed some of the snow from her hair with a gloved hand.

"No one comes looking for me these days, trust me." _Except you_ , he wanted to add, but he kept that little nugget to himself. It was touching really, how many times she had sought him out. And he relished those moments more than she could know.

"What about you? Are you worried about Pothead – ahem- your friends coming to look for you?" He smirked as she frowned at his nicknames.

She shook her head. "They were thoroughly engrossed in Zonko's when I left with plans to head over to Spintwitches after."

"Then I think we're safe, at least for a minute more," he grinned again and pressed another kiss to her mouth before she could protest. But Hermione's nerves wouldn't let her be distracted so easily. She quickly broke away and gave him a sad smile.

"It's too much of a risk. It's broad daylight! And," she added as she put some distance between them, "I had something I wanted to discuss with you. At least I have the opportunity now."

Draco sighed. He _really_ did not want to be discussing things right now. And by the sound of Hermione's voice, he knew reality was about to intrude and any lightness he had felt was about to disappear.

Rummaging in her pocket, she pulled out a tightly folded piece of paper. "I compiled this for you. I'm not sure… but Draco what do you know about Occlumency? It's really not something you can learn from a book, but this is a start, and I think really it would be worth looking into. To help keep you safe…" Hermione's words drifted off as she handed him the paper. Draco had the most peculiar expression on his face.

Draco took the list from her silently. He shouldn't feel amused that her first instinct was to look into books. It was her nature. Despite the crushing seriousness of her purpose, he felt a strange sensation in his chest. Valued. He felt valued. Yet again, she had gone out of her way to help him. To help protect him. It kept him from feeling entirely alone. But if she knew… he shook off the thought. He wouldn't think about that now.

"You're right, it's not something you can learn from a book. But thank you," He brushed a kiss across her forehead. "I already can Occlude Hermione. You don't need to worry about that."

"You can?" Hermione looked up at him in surprise. She shouldn't be surprised. It was hardly likely that Draco would have been tasked with anything should he not be able to hide it. And yet she was surprised. Occlumency was advanced magic. When Harry had struggled with it, she had wondered about its difficulty. After all, Harry had managed advanced magic in the past, particularly in defense. Yet, even with what she knew of Draco's skills, his apparent knowledge was impressive. She was a touch envious, but mostly relieved.

He nodded, but looked at her thoughtfully. That strange sensation tightened his chest again. He handed her back the list. "You should keep this."

"Oh right. I suppose you don't need it," she moved to destroy the evidence, but he grasped her hand to halt her.

"No, you should keep it for yourself. You may not be able to train, but you can start learning. Perhaps one day…" he drifted off at the expression on Hermione's face.

Hermione felt her heart stutter. All this time, all this time she had been helping _him_. She'd been the one healing his injuries, brewing healing potions, researching for him. It was the first time he'd said anything that indicated a desire to help protect her. It was an acknowledgement of sorts of her place in the war to come. And even with that foreboding thought, Hermione still took some pleasure in the thought that he was concerned for her too.

"Perhaps one day?" she echoed. She hadn't realized that her expression had effectively distracted him.

"Let's not talk about 'one day', at least for now," he deftly plucked the paper from her fingers and slid it into her pocket. He was so close, and Hermione was feeling so much, she just wanted to lean into him. Just for a moment. So she indulged her impulse. She stepped forward and pressed her cheek to his chest. Draco was not one to miss out on an opportunity. He quickly snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. He rested his chin atop her head and she sighed. She felt his heart beat a quick tattoo, heard him swallow the tension back.

Another trickle of guilt slid through her conscience. She wasn't only hurting her friends. She'd become another worry for him too. Another liability. Another person that could be used against him. She couldn't let that happen. She'd be prepared. She'd study and find a way to prove to him that he could rely on her. That he could trust in her. And then maybe she could help him get out of this mess.

She pulled away and tried not to let his stiff expression hurt her. He knew they couldn't stay like this forever. It was much too risky. This was all they had. Hidden evenings. Stolen moments. Nothing more.

"I need to go. I have shopping to do and…" she gave him another sad smile. Oh how she wished she didn't have to do that so often. Smile sadly. Leave him. It got harder every time.

"Yes, well, if I don't see you – I mean, I probably won't – well, Happy Christmas Hermione," he stood in front of her awkwardly. It was strange, she supposed, wishing a former enemy turned love interest a "Happy Christmas" as if everything was perfectly normal. He didn't know how to end this encounter. If he should leave, or she should leave. So he stood there, simply staring at her. Hermione reached up and brushed a kiss across his lips.

"Happy Christmas Draco."

* * *

And it was a happy Christmas. For Hermione, at least. She had spent a delightful holiday with her parents. She shoved every negative thought from her head to the best of her ability. She buried her fears, squashed her guilt, and enjoyed her parents' company. Perhaps for the last time. Their last Christmas together. She wasn't sure what would happen later. After. She'd had an inkling for awhile now that time was closing in on them. She wanted them safe. Perhaps another Christmas would come and go. Perhaps not. Hermione didn't know. All she knew was the plan she had in mind. And if she had to enact it, there was no guarantee that she'd ever have her family back again.

But on Christmas morning, she could not keep all thoughts of the magical world at bay. Of course, there were the gifts from her friends. But there was one more she had most definitely not been expecting. A book. Not just any book. A rare book she had been searching for, for _months_ she had been looking. And there was only one person she'd confided her desire to. He'd apparently had more luck. Hermione had been surprised and suspicious when the book seemed to magically appear in the pockets of her outer robes on Christmas Day, nearly tearing the seams as it grew to its actual size.

Inside the front cover, there were only two letters. Her initials. But she recognized the loopy scrawl. Her heart had thudded as she traced the curves with her finger. He'd given her a present. It was extremely touching. But it was also worrisome. She'd let herself become so ensnared in this relationship that she had refused to see the danger. The time apart had opened her eyes a little. Allowed her to reflect. He had yet to confide in her what he was doing. She knew he was up to something, but she couldn't bring herself to believe that it was anything significant. He was, after all, still so young. With so many more experienced and skilled wizards at his disposal, Hermione seriously doubted that Voldemort would entrust Draco with anything significant. But shouldn't it bother her that there was the chance?

She knew he was scared. Terrified of losing his family. Hermione eyed the book. There was that guilt again. She was betraying her friends. But wouldn't she be betraying him too if she broke his confidence? She'd started to care deeply for the Malfoy heir. She'd never felt this way before, and that was terrifying as well. But she wasn't going to give up. She felt determined. She could do this. She would help him survive.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione angrily paced the floors of the small abandoned classroom. It had been a month. One month since they'd returned from Christmas holidays, and Draco had been avoiding her. Even more adamantly than he had in the autumn. He was strategically eating his meals at odd hours in the Great Hall, he had moved seats in most of their classes to avoid eye contact with her, and, most frustrating, he was entirely avoiding the Astronomy Tower. She'd visited at random intervals during her Prefect rounds, but to no avail.

She was angry. Hurt as well, but it was easier to deal with the anger. Hadn't they moved past this already? They'd gone through this behaviour before. He'd tried to avoid her, they failed spectacularly, and ended up entangled in each other's arms. It was futile and ridiculous. She would not spend the next few months going in vicious circles.

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. They had come too far to go back now. She had every intention of helping see him through this. She was invested in this relationship. And, despite his actions, she knew he was too. Even now, though he was pretending as if she didn't exist, she had the proof that she had affected him, that she had touched him on some level. One day in the halls, the stairs had moved, and she could see him exasperatedly rerouting his path to the 7th floor by the look of it. And she had seen it. The cat's eye. The cat's eye she had oh so strategically dropped in his pocket during their interlude in the snow. He hadn't been to only one to exchange gifts. Hermione took the opportunity that had been gifted to her and had been very pleased with her choice. The cat's eye, after all, was supposed to help protect from mental invasions and help to stimulate physical recovery from attacks—physical or mental.

The first few weeks, she had felt foolish for even doing something so sentimental. But when she had seen him absently palm the stone in his hand as he walked, watched him brush his thumb over the surface, her resolve crumbled. He had kept it. Not only had he kept her gift, but he apparently kept it with him on a regular basis. She hated that she was pleased by that.

And so now here she was. Confused and determined to have answers. Before the holidays, he had been the one taking risks, determined to spend time with her. But now, nothing. Why had he been avoiding her? The explanation she liked least crept back into her mind. _Because of your blood_. Was that why? She had thought he had changed his views, that he had evolved. After all, their previous encounters would certainly suggest that. Now she wasn't so sure. Was it even possible for so many years of careful molding by his parents to be obliterated in such a short time? Perhaps his time at home had changed things. But the stone… it left her even more adamant for a confrontation.

Hermione stopped her pacing to listen. He should be along any minute. She had taken great care with this plan of hers. Just as their Ancient Runes class was ending, she had subtly cast a _Diffindo_ and watched as his belongings tumbled to the floor. To buy herself some more time, she had ensured that his inkwell had smashed, covering the floor and surrounding items. It hadn't been very kind of her, but she was determined to find a way to meet with him. As expected, no one had stayed to help him clean the mess. So here was she, waiting for him to pass this rarely used classroom so that she could finally corner his attention.

She heard the steps starting to pass the door and she sprung. Wand out, she grasped at the passing black robes and yanked hard. Only to see the robes tear. Draco spun around, his eyes sparking with temper. They softened a touch at the sight of her, but only for a moment.

"Granger, what the hell—" Frustrated that her plan was already failing, Hermione looked around quickly and then shoved Draco unceremoniously through the door. After quickly charming the door and casting a _Muffliato_ , she turned to face him.

"You owe me an explanation." Hermione crossed her arms and stared him down. Draco casually dropped his bag to the ground and leaned against the wall. He was looking at her, but he wasn't _looking_ at her. It was as if he were looking through her.

"I don't think I owe you anything anymore, Granger." Hermione rolled her eyes at his snark.

"Well, you're wrong. What is this all about? Why are you playing games? Why are you avoiding me? If you recall, that didn't work out so well the last time you tried it." He didn't say a word and Hermione began to tap her foot impatiently. What was this? Draco was never one not to raise to the bait. And yet, here he stood, apparently cool and composed while she wanted to rant.

"Don't just stand there! Oh for goodness' sake!" Frustrated, Hermione whipped out her wand. " _Accio_ cat's eye!" Hermione grabbed the stone as it soared from his pocket and watched with grim satisfaction as a tick started in Draco's jaw. "Care to explain why you're carrying this around with you?"

"If you wanted it back, all you had to do was ask. If that's all…" Draco's jaw was set as he moved from the wall. Hermione closed in on him and pushed him back.

"Of course that's not all! I don't want it back!" She exclaimed, fumbling to shove it back in its rightful place. "It was a gift Draco. And I think the fact that we exchanged gifts tells you that this is more than a fleeting fancy."

"What do you want from me Granger?" he snapped, moving towards. His eyes flashed angrily, but Hermione wasn't going to give him an inch. She deserved answers.

"What do _you_ want Draco?" she shot back, deliberately using his first name to jar him. It worked. She saw his jaw clench. She wasn't going to allow him to retreat back to using last names as some sort of defense mechanism. She advanced on him, unleashing all her anger and confusion.

"You started all this with that blasted kiss! And then another! Then you take me out in the middle of the night for some pseudo date—"

"It was a _real_ date!" His defensiveness surprised her. It seemed to release something in him as well. That cool resolve crumbled around him as he snapped back, moving in closer to her. "And don't you bloody well blame me for all this! I've just been trying to survive this year. That's all I needed to do. And it's been bloody hard enough. Then you come along, desperate to help me. Why is that? Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? You made me need you!"

She was so tired of rehashing the same argument over and over again.

"May I remind you that you very well DID need me? You could have died Draco!" She reinforced that last point with a jab to his chest. He grabbed her hand, and trapped it there. The air crackled around them. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her fingers, but he acted as if her touching him was the most normal thing in the world.

Her breath hitched, but he didn't stop his tirade. It was as if the dam had collapsed and the words were tumbling out. "Now I can't get enough of you. I can't stop looking for you. I want you closer all the damn time and I can't stand it. Do you know how hard I've worked _not_ to see you? And then you do this! I don't need anyone, do you understand that? Needing people makes you weak. It's so damn dangerous." He was absently caressing her hand on his chest. "But you… goddamnit Hermione. Why does being with you have to feel so good?"

If he was looking for an answer, Hermione was in no place to give him one. She felt the same. It shouldn't feel so right to be with Draco Malfoy. He was working for the enemy. And yet she had abandoned those arguments long ago. All those nights helping him. The long conversations. All of it showed her that they had moved well past their allegiances. It was deeper than that now. Which made her all the angrier with him.

She went to pull her hand away, but he tightened his grip.

"If you feel that way, if being together makes you happy, why did you pull away? Why did you avoid me like the plague this past month?" She hated that her hurt came through her words, but why was he pulling back _now_? After all this time sneaking around. His words didn't suggest he was having second thoughts. Just the opposite. It seemed as if his feelings were as surprisingly deep as hers were.

"Really? For the brightest witch of our age… for once I was trying to do the right bloody thing. You can thank your influence for that. This can't end any way but badly. I don't want you to get hurt." His words seemed sincere, but Hermione doubted him. She was hurting and wanted to lash out.

"That sounds oddly convenient. You know what I think?" His eyes narrowed at her, but she paid him no mind. "I think that that Pureblood Draco Malfoy went home for the holidays and it dawned on him that he couldn't possibly have feelings for the Mudblood Gryffindor. That he'd be tainted by being with her. So the best thing would be to act as if none of it ever happened." Her words fell like dead weights in a pool.

His eyes hardened and for a moment Hermione feared that she had made a colossal error.

"Of course you would think that. I shouldn't be surprised that you'd think so low of me. But that didn't stop you from snogging me senseless. Didn't stop you from climbing all over me did it?" He sneered at her, finally releasing her hand from his chest. He took a step back, putting even more distance between them.

"Simple chemistry. Hormones. That's your excuse, isn't it? You'll need some way to justify kissing me, won't you?" Hermione wasn't sure why she kept goading him. This wasn't at all how she anticipated this conversation to go. He didn't respond, just stared at her coolly. It was that cool stare that got to her. "Don't worry Draco. It wasn't that memorable. I'll be sure to replace them with better ones soon enough." She lied through her teeth. As if she could possibly forget their nights together.

Draco knew that her words were total rubbish. But that knowledge didn't stop them from getting under his skin. He felt some sort of primitive urge to remind her just how good it was between them. He knew for a certainty that he wouldn't be able to replace her. She'd become as necessary as oxygen. He was a damn addict.

"Not memorable Granger? Don't play the victim. You're the one making up excuses not me. If I had my way, we'd be kissing again." But he couldn't have things his way. If things were his way, he wouldn't be in this bloody messi in the first place.

Hermione's temper gave way to a feeling of frustration. "Then what was the point of all this? We are so obviously attracted to each other. It's why we couldn't stay away before. I'm tired of the games and circles. We need to accept this for what it is. You mean something to me, Draco." She wasn't ready to voice exactly what those feelings were, but this was a start.

"You think you don't? That I don't care about you? Don't be daft Granger," Draco ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and looked at her with troubled eyes. "If you were nothing, I'd use you and leave you. I don't care how awful that makes me sound. It's the truth. But you are more, and because of who I am and who you are, it makes it dangerous. I'm trying to protect you!"

"You want to _protect_ me? To help me?" she snapped. An idea began to glimmer. "Then don't shut me out! Don't pretend I'm not a part of this Draco! With or without you, I'm a part of this!"

Draco glared. "I am bloody well aware of that! I don't thank Potter for that either! Endangering you like this… which is why I won't do it anymore!"

"So you're just going to run away? Shut me out?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" the fight was going of him, Hermione could tell. He didn't _want_ to give them up any more than she did.

"Yes, actually." She crossed her arms, staring him down. "You think I need protection? Then teach me!"

"What are you on about?" Draco asked in utter confusion.

"You heard me. Teach me Occlumency." Hermione's hands went to her hips, offended by the dumbstruck look on his face. "If I can Occlude, we can minimize the risk of anyone finding out about us." Anyone with the potential to do them harm, anyway. Not to mention, it would keep anyone else from finding out secrets about Harry.

"Hermione, it's not, I mean I can't…" Draco's words faded at the look on her face. Could he possibly? He'd never taught anyone _anything_. And this was advanced magic.

Hermione huffed. It was ridiculous. Harry had learned. Draco had learned. She _could_ learn, she was certain. This would help her in so many ways. She was surprised she hadn't considered it earlier.

"You put the idea in my head after all," She began to pace. "Did you really believe that I wouldn't go home and at least start to look into Occlumency after our last conversation?"

Draco mutely shook his head. This was insane. It wasn't as if he had had the best of teachers in his crazy aunt Bella. He certainly wouldn't be using any of _her_ tactics. He thought of the fear that clawed at him while he had been home. But if there was even a chance that Occlumency could help protect her… and the selfish thought drifted through his head that it meant he could have her with him just a little bit longer. And oh how he wanted that. He wasn't strong enough to resist her for much longer. He was surprised he had held out as long as he had. He nodded his agreement.

Hermione was suddenly baffled. She had expected that she'd need to completely convince him with a long lecture. She hadn't thought he'd agree so quickly. She quieted, feeling a touch suspicious of his motives.

"Why?"

"What do you mean?" Draco tilted his head as he looked at her, his thoughts already on his forthcoming challenge. He'd have to work quickly. She'd need this in case… well in case his plan actually worked. It would provide her with some protection. And whether he succeeded or not, the Dark Lord was growing stronger by the day. It wouldn't be long before she'd be in more danger.

"Why are you agreeing to help me so easily? Just moments ago, you were insisting we shouldn't be seeing each other anymore. Yet now you want to spend more time together, despite the danger?" Hermione wasn't used to others agreeing so quickly. Perhaps it was the Gryffindor temperament, or the stubborn natures which surrounded her, but this didn't settle well with her. She'd gotten what she wanted, yes, but why?

Draco's mouth pressed into a hard line. "Because you're right." He reached for her. Hermione didn't step away, but didn't move any closer. He brushed a hand through her hair in a soothing motion. To soothe himself or her, it was unclear.

His plan was already in motion. If he didn't proceed, he would die. His mother would die. And while everyone thought that Albus Dumbledore was some sort of saint, he had his doubts about the Headmaster's ability to save his mother when she was already in the clutches of the Dark Lord.

"There isn't much I can do anymore," he confided. "But I can help you with this." He wanted to protect her. But how could he choose between her and his mother? He lost either way. But helping her learn Occlumency, that would only help her.

There was a defeatedness in his tone that had Hermione softening her stance. He had agreed to what she wanted, hadn't he? It was a step in the right direction. She stepped into his embrace, giving in to her desire to be near him. Eventually, he'd come to trust her fully and then she could help him out from under Voldemort's influence. She could save him. She rested her head against his chest, as he tugged her closer. Until then, they had this.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently, arms crossed, her frustration mounting. They had been at this for _an hour_. One hour of the _theory_ behind Occlumency. It was ridiculous. It wasn't as if Occlumency was a highly popular subject, so there were limited texts on the subject. And Hermione could easily study theory on her own time, as she'd done already. How was she ever to learn if all they did was talk? It was ridiculous. She grit her teeth as Draco once more delved into another reference from the text he held.

"Draco, that is enough! For goodness sake, if you do not stop soon, your lessons will begin to resmemble Umbridge's!" Hermione snapped. Draco's diatribe cut off as he shot her a glare.

"This is serious, Hermione. It involves your mind. You need to be prepared–" Hermione rose from the cushiony sofa she'd been lounging on in the Room of Requirement ― their designated meeting spot for tonight's lesson. The Room of Requirement had provided them with quite a comfortable setting this evening. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, the light livening the cozy room. It was small, sparsely furnished, with a loveseat, a sofa, and a little oval coffee table. They evidently didn't need much for this sort of thing. Not at all like the room provided for the DA meetings. However, they didn't have the time to waste to enjoy their surroundings.

"I'm never going to know if I understand the theory if I'm not able to apply it." She sighed. It was difficult to stay angry when she suspected his motives for avoiding moving forward. "You're going to have to cast it on me eventually, you know. That is the entire point of this exercise."

Draco grudgingly tossed the book onto the table.

"I know I have to cast it!" A tick started in Draco's jaw, and instantly Hermione realized the problem.

"Have you ever cast _Legillimens_ before?" His lips thinned, giving her an answer. Why hadn't she thought of that? Just because he could protect his mind didn't mean he knew how to invade another's.

He turned away from her. "I have."

"Oh really?" Hermione sincerely doubted him. "When? On whom?"

"I have. That's all you need to know." Hermione huffed her annoyance.

"Then it shouldn't be that difficult to cast it on me, then should it? So shall we?" Hermione readied herself. She knew that this would be an onslaught into her mind. This was risky. She had memories, memories of Harry in particular, that she'd like to be kept hidden. But, she was relaying on Draco's focus on their relationship as the target of his intrusion.

"Casting it on unsuspecting Crabbe and Goyle is hardly the same as casting it on you! It's your mind, Hermione!" Draco spat out.

"You cast it on them? When? Why?" Hermione was slightly taken aback to discover he had used the spell on his friends. She had assumed it had been part of his lessons—with his deluded father or his crazed aunt, she still wasn't sure.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course I cast it on them. Do you honestly believe I would risk casting it on you first? Without attempting it on another? I wouldn't put you at risk like that!"

"But Draco…" Frustration and annoyance with his nonchalant attitude towards his friends warred with her appreciation of his genuine concern for her well-being.

"It doesn't matter. It's not like they _knew_. Or had that much going on in their heads to begin with," Draco's words were full of venom, and acted as a reminder of how far his friendships had deteriorated. Draco's shoulders slumped. "Hermione, I want to help you with this, I do, but being a skilled Legillimens takes years. I've only started learning to help you. I just need a minute to get my head around it. It's terribly personal, you know." His eyes clouded and Hermione wondered about his time learning Occlumency once more.

Hermione frowned and flicked at a piece of lint on her robes. He was right, of course. This would not only be personal, but extremely intimate. Invasive. Harry hadn't said exactly what he'd seen during his lessons with Professor Snape, but she had a feeling the Potion's Master had seen many of Harry's memories which he had wished to keep to himself. They were private. But Hermione felt that she was prepared. She understood the theory, knew she had to clear her mind, empty herself of emotion. She could do this.

"Draco, I understand that. But this, what's between us, it's personal. And we need to shield it from prying eyes. We need to." Hermione voice was soft, yet firm. She supposed she was lucky. Unlike Draco or Harry, she had someone she trusted teaching her. Naturally, she was intent to shield certain memories from Draco. But that was the point of this. If she could block memories of their relationship, then she could block other things too.

"Fine. We'd best get on with it." Draco grumbled as he took a seat on the sofa she'd been occupying. "Come on. We need to face each other." Relieved, Hermione took her place across from him. They had limited time to work on this. It wasn't as if they could have scheduled classes! Taking a deep breath, Hermione willed herself to focus.

" _Legillimens._ "

 _Hermione was with her parents at Christmas. Her Hogwarts letter had arrived. She was with the Weasleys over the summer. The troll had found her in the girl's lavatory_.

Hermione let out a painful breath as Draco quickly withdrew. It had happened so quickly, she hadn't been as prepared as she'd thought. And she had no idea why her mind had taken that path. She had thought she had emptied it!

Draco looked away from her. This was just the tip. This was not his first foray into Legillimency. Naturally he'd been curious while learning Occlumency, but he'd only been casting it over the past week. He was hardly skilled in this, and yet the first memory he had seen had been of her parents. Their importance was obvious, as was her emotional attachment to them. How long would it take a skilled Legillimens to discover their whereabouts? Her affection for the Weasleys was also clear. But he hadn't seen anything of their relationship. How long could that last?

"Again?" he asked gruffly. Hermione swallowed with difficulty and nodded. She turned to face him.

 _She was hurriedly tucking the time-turner away in her third year. Snape was mocking the size of her teeth. She was dancing with Viktor at the Yule Ball._

Hermione cringed as he withdrew. Draco's eyes remained sharply trained on her.

"A time-turner?" He demanded in envious wonder. "They gave you a time-turner? Who? Why?"

"To take more classes," she admitted sheepishly. There was no point denying it now. "Professor McGonagall had to get special permission from the Ministry."

"Of course she did," Draco drawled. "And of course you needed to take more classes. I shouldn't even be surprised." Draco shook his head.

Hermione ignored him and closed her eyes in frustration. "But no one else was to know!"

"You can't seriously expect that you would have been able to Occlude so soon?" Draco asked incrediously. He still often struggled with it. It required a consistent focus and lack of emotion that was hard to maintain in such a volatile situation. Hermione pursed her lips and remained silent. It _was_ a bit presumptious to believe she could do it so soon. But, being Hermione Granger, she thought she'd have been able to block him a bit. Instead, she had revealed a long buried secret. If he could see something like that so soon, something that needed to be hidden and at his lowered skill level. … Hermione stiffened and stared him down.

"Again." She insisted.

They went at again and again. Hermione was soon feeling drained, but was no closer to successfully Occluding Draco for a long period of time. She had managed briefly on two occasions, only to let down her guard in her triumph and find him ransacking her mind again. In addition to his earlier comments about the time-turner, Draco kept a running commentary as he went through her memories. She felt exposed. Vulnerable. Yes, he hadn't seen anymore "secrets" per se, but he was seeing things she didn't necessarily want him to. Watching as she hugged Harry and shook Ron's hand after she had been Petrified. Standing in the background as she burst into tears after the Yule Ball. Seeing her satisfaction that her curse had worked on Marietta Edgecomb after she had betrayed the D.A. Trapping Rita Skeeter in her Animagus form.

"You really are a force to be reckoned with you know," Draco observed after that last jaunt. He appeared winded, but not nearly as tired or frustrated as Hermione. "Very cunning of you. Quite Slytherin really to trap Skeeter in her form like that." He smiled at her fondly, but Hermione simply frowned in concentration. Apparently his attempts to lighten the mood were not helping matters.

"I think we should call an end to it for tonight, don't you?" Draco collapsed against the back of the sofa in defeat. Evidently, they were at a road block. Over and over he had skimmed through her memories. Not looking for anything in particular, just what was at the surface. And with every new assault, Hermione was revealing bits of herself that she didn't want to. The images were getting more personal instead of less and her emotions were controlling her. Draco believed her frustration was the cause, but he wasn't going to tell her so and face her wrath.

"We can't." Hermione determinedly set her shoulders. Who knew when another opportunity would present itself? She had borrowed the map from Harry with the pretense of needing to study alone. And technically, she was studying. Not that it eased her guilt. She couldn't keep manipulating her friends to hide her secret rendez-vous with Draco. It was one thing when they met strategically when others were busy… this was different.

"Hermione," he started gently, taking her hands into his own. "We've been at this for hours now. We are both exhausted. Emotionally and physically. And you have to admit, this isn't working."

Hermione snatched her hands away, angry with his easy dismissal of her training. "Then perhaps we should try another technique!"

Draco looked at her, his brow furrowed in irritation. Hermione leapt from the sofa and began to pace as he had earlier in the evening. Her frustration at her lack of progress was bubbling to the surface.

"It's not only you I need to protect!" she snapped. "I have my family, friends, Ron, Harry… they have all confided in me and one small misstep could lead to their end!" Her voice was nearly shrill now as the emotional toll of the evening began to catch up with her. Draco remained silent for a long moment.

Finally, Draco looked at her from cool eyes. "You're right, of course. You're always right Granger." His voice was soft and hard. "They will come for your family. Not only are you Potter's friend, but you're a presumptious little Mudblood, an anomaly in your talent. An example would have to be made." Hermione froze in horror at his words. She knew _, she knew_ all of these things. But to hear Draco saying them in such a manner…

He continued as if he couldn't see the mortification in her eyes. "But first, they'd torture the lot of you. Just for a spot of fun. You've heard stories of Greyback, I'm sure. Not a nice piece of work. I believe that werewolf you were fond of, Lupin, was one of his. I'm sure he could tell you some stories. And of course, it would be all your fault. That's how they would find them. Just a peak into your mind." Draco stood and came toe to toe with her. Her heart was thudding in her distress. "And once he'd eviscerated them, he'd break you. Leave you broken for Potter to find so that he would blame himself in his pathetic Gryffindor way."

It was enough. Hermione rose her hand to slap him. But before her hand could connect with his face, his hand clamped around her wrist, anticipating her move.

" _Legillimens."_

"No!" Hermione's shout echoed as she shoved him away from her. The room felt like it was spinning. Draco was not in her mind. It only took a moment for Hermione to realize that _she was in his_. She watched in horrified wonder as Draco lay twitching on the ground. For a second she wondered if she had done this, in her anger at his words if she had somehow cast a nonverbal curse.

But no. Slowly, a darkened figure came into her line of sight. Tittering in disappointment.

" _We've been over this Draco. Despite what dear Cissy thinks, learning to Occlude through the pain is the best way. We've only got an itty bitty hour left before your mummy comes home to try and stop me, so you better get it right this time!"_

Hermione stumbled as the scene went black. She raised a trembling hand to her mouth as Draco backed away from her in mortification. He stared blindly ahead, beyond her.

"You weren't supposed to see that." Suddenly hard cold eyes were boring into her. "Did you know you could do that?"

Hermione recoiled at the accusation. "Of course not! I didn't – I mean, I how could I? Merlin Draco…" Hermione let out a strangled sob. She'd _Crucioed_ him. His own aunt. It shouldn't surprise her. She knew what Bellatrix Lestrange was capable of. But to see it. To practically experience it. No wonder he was concerned for his mother. She wanted to go to him, but couldn't find the strength to move.

"Hermione." Draco tentatively took a step towards her. Just looking at his face was suddenly too much for Hermione to bear. Her heart couldn't stand it. She began to shake and soon dry heaving sobs were escaping her.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Draco murmured soothingly, gathering Hermione into his arms. It was so much, too much. First, the invasion. Feeling helpless as he plundered through her memories. The building frustrations as she was unable to prevent his intrustion. Then the psycological manipulation used to stir her into action. And then finally, her emotional outburst that practically thrust him from her mind. And propelled her right into his. She shook from the onslaught of emotion and the aftershock of the magic she had used.

Draco pressed comforting kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, before gently claiming her mouth with his. He kissed her slowly, deeply, and Hermione let him absorb all her fear, grief, and frustration. He brushed his lips across hers one last time, before pulling her tight against his chest.

"I shouldn't have… I don't know what I was thinking." He murmured his apology over and over into her hair, tightening his hold on her. Hermione slowly calmed in the warmth of his embrace.

"It worked though." Hermione's words were muffled against his chest as he held her close to him. She lifted her glittering eyes to his. "I was able to cast you out of my mind." Firmly too, she wanted to add. And she had turned the tables on him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her eyes soft with compassion. After what he had been through, he was hardly in a position to teach her. And yet, he had tried. He stroked a lock of hair away from her face.

"It's not something I talk about. No one knows… I thought, well I thought I had succeeded in burying it." Draco frowned. "Actually, I think you are the first person to see that particular memory. Even Aunt Bella hasn't been able to see that. Come to think of it…" Draco loosened his grip and turned from her, staring into the fire.

"Maybe we've been trying this the wrong way. I've been so focused on teaching you the proper way, they way you'd learn from books, that I hadn't taken my personal experience into consideration."

He spun back to her, a touch frantic. "Not that I'm saying torture is the best method of teaching! And I don't think I should have taunted you either." He frowned again, his features becoming harsh in the dim light.

Hermione placed a comforting hand on his forearm. "I know you wouldn't hurt me Draco. But the taunting worked. Obviously, I can Occlude if I am under duress."

"True enough. But you won't always be under duress should someone decide to use Legillimency on you." Hermione slowly nodded. She knew that it could be done subtly. She often wondered how many times Professor Dumbledore or Professor Snape had used it on unsuspecting individuals.

Draco slid his hand into hers, entwining their fingers.

"I know it's not easy, but do you think we could meet again tomorrow night? I have an idea. I just need a bit of time to think on it."

Hermione worried her bottom lip as Draco stared beseechingly. Despite, or perhaps because of, the emotional upheaval, they were finally making progress. It may have taken a few hours, but she had managed to Occlude with success. But instead of feeling the rush of satisfaction from her achievement, Hermione was feeling overwhelmed and drained. Perhaps it would be best to break now and meet again.

"Alright. I'll find a way." It would probably mean more lies. More deception. But she couldn't help that feel that this time, at least, it was for a good cause. An important one if she was going to keep everyone safe.

"You always do."


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione came to a surprised halt as she entered the Room of Requirement. She had surmised that Draco was already there, as the door had immediately appeared when she arrived. She expected that it was because the Room had already changed to fit their requirements for the evening and that Draco was waiting impatiently inside. What she hadn't expected was to come in and find Draco sprawled casually on a bed with half a dozen books around him.

Draco looked up, and for a moment, Hermione noticed the pleasant surprise that flickered across his face.

"You came." He propped himself up, totally at ease in his surroundings. Hermione stayed near the door, uncertain where to go.

"Why do you always seem so surprised when I do?" There had not been a time when she hadn't come for him.

Draco watched her cautiously from his place on the bed. "I don't know. I suppose I keep expecting you to come to your senses and cut me lose." _As I've done_. The unspoken words settled between them. Trying to break the tension, Hermione gestured to the bed.

"You've made yourself comfortable," she observed drily. The bed hardly seemed appropriate for their activities this evening, which made her wonder exactly what Draco had "required" of it for tonight.

Draco smirked at her knowingly before rising from the bed. "Mind in the gutter Granger? Some of us do need sleep. I haven't been getting as much as I should these days." Hermione glanced at him in concern, yearning for him to tell her _why_ he wasn't sleeping, what exactly he was doing to leave those dark circles under his eyes. But his face cleared as he neared her. He prowled around her and ran a hand down her arm, taking her bag from her, while pulling her close. Her heart started to beat a little more quickly.

"All you have to do is ask Granger. I won't pretend I haven't thought about it," He leaned in, his lips ghosting over hers, offering the barest of kisses. And then it was one more, one more hard kiss, lips fiercely claiming hers before he pulled back.

"But I wasn't thinking about it then Hermione. I know what we need to do tonight." His eyes clouded as he pulled away from her, turned away from her. "About last time…" Hermione stopped him with a hand on a shoulder.

"If we hadn't moved past that, I wouldn't be here now." They shared a long look before Hermione broke the silence. "You seemed to think you had something to show me. So how about we work on that then?"

Draco nodded and delved into his idea.

"I was going about this in the wrong way," Draco explained as he paced in front of her. "I thought the best way to teach Occlumency would be from the books. The exact opposite way from how I was taught." He gave her a strange, stressed smile. "But I actually did learn how to Occlude. And some of that was self-taught. Though not in the most conventional of ways."

"What do you mean?" Hermione was relieved that he had found a way to learn Occlumency in spite of the torture he'd been under. And she was curious about his methods, since she was struggling with this herself.

He turned to her, his eyes intent. "It wasn't intentional at first. Aunt Bella would meander through my mind, and she would particularly be drawn to images of my mother. I suppose through her own connection to her." Draco grimaced, still unable to believe that his fierce, yet loving, mother was related to such a woman.

"I hated having her see those moments with my mother. So I took to willing those memories away. I envisioned tucking them aside whenever she entered my mind. She could still see other things, I couldn't keep her out. I couldn't control all the other paths she took, or the other things she found. And occassionally she still managed to bring up some images of my mother, particularly ones where she was present."

"So you willed yourself to forget? I don't see how that works. If you were even thinking of the memories, wouldn't your mind be taking that path?" For someone as logical as Hermione, this train of thought was convoluted and she couldn't see how this method would work.

"It's not forgetting exactly. You need to remember these are the tricks I learned to survive, not exactly based on skill." He paused, searching for the right words. "You have to readjust your brain. At all times. As soon as the those thoughts you don't want them to see enter your head, you need to make a concentrated effort at removing them. Redirection. Teach your brain to take a different path."

Hermione paused. This was not what the books suggested. But there was something in what Draco was saying. "So it's like misdirection? Instead of banishing them from my mind, I take the intruder away from the memories I want hidden."

Draco grinned. "Exactly. Very Slytherin, I know."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his teasing. "Oh I'm sure this Gryffindor can figure it out."

"I know you can." He paused again, this time, taking her by the shoulders. "But Hermione, this can't be a one off. You need to do this at all times. Whenever your mind drifts to something secret, you immediately need to change your thoughts. I've found that the more often I did that, the more memories I was able to shield."

"Constant vigilance," Hermione muttered in understanding. "And you figured this out on your own? Why didn't you mention it last week?"

Draco shrugged, a tinge of colour gracing his cheeks. "It wasn't the right way. And honestly, it took me a few days to figure out exactly how I had managed it. I was desperate, if you recall. The whole thing was quite a mess. And at first I wasn't going to suggest something to you that I really had no clue about."

"It's why you focused on the books," Hermione added in understanding. He had been so intent on doing it the _right_ way.

"It's more important that you protect yourself, one way or the other. Speaking of," Draco turned back to the books on the bed. He pushed them aside and sat on the bed, gesturing for Hermione to join him.

She settled comfortably beside him on the bed and watched in fascination as Draco placed two of the books infront of her. Never had she seen anyone else turn to books for information in the way she had. And this wasn't the first time. She recalled his collection of books from the previous lesson and felt her heart swell with this feeling of connection. This unforeseen similarity between them that made him all the more appealing to her.

Gesturing for her to move closer, Draco began to explain his findings.

"I suppose you've heard of a pensieve? I'm sure we read about it in Ancient Runes." Draco pointed to the image on the first book. Hermione leanded closer and nodded. Not only did they learn about them in Ancient Runes, but she was aware that there was a pensieve housed in Hogwarts for the use of the Headmasters. They were rare and complex magical objects.

"Well, this, this book explains how the dangers of a pensieve." Draco spun the other book towards her. Hermione could sense a level of dark magic in it immediately.

"The Restriced section?" she asked. Not that she was worried. She had been delving into that section for years. Draco smirked slightly, not acknowledging the question. Instead he flipped the page and her eyes were drawn to the incantation in the middle.

" _Memorai dimidiate_?" She traced her fingers over the words.

"It's to resist memory intrusion. In a way." Draco sighed and leaned back, running a tired hand through his hair. "Pensieves can be very dangerous. Drawing one's memories and having them looked at so thoroughly by another, it was a risk many wizards weren't willing to take when it was first invented. So in retaliation, this spell was invented. It's to dull one's own memories, so that if they are pulled out or invaded upon, they will not be clear. They will be dimmer, unfocused."

Hermione frowned. She pulled the book towards her. How had she never heard of this spell? There were no references to it in any of the books on Occlumency.

"This could help us…" Hermione let her eyes wander the page, looking for signs of danger. And yet she didn't see any. "Why wait until now to show me this? We could have used it first, instead of learning Occlumency. This may be a better option."

Draco shook his head. "Not quite. There aren't many recorded uses of this spell. The few that are _say_ it was effective. It had the expected result. But it is used so infrequently. I don't have enough information about it to feel secure in it."

Hermione looked at the pages again. "It doesn't even look like a dark spell," she murmured thoughtfully. She had seen her share of dark magic over the years.

"Not all spells that are dark were made to be dark. Sometimes it happens along the way." Hermione looked up at that, hearing such a ring of truth in his words that it struck her core.

"No, I suppose not." Sometimes the unintended happened. She sighed, and the breathy sound drew his eyes to her mouth. A familiar tension began to build in the room. Her eyes fluttered to the closeness of their hands on the page, and she willed herself not to touch. And not to pull away.

"Counter curse?" She asked softly. For if one could dim their memory, how would they undo that? How would they not forget?

"A simple _Finite_. But it has to come from the caster." Draco turned his darkened gaze upon her. "The trick is, that the caster has to know what the memory is that they wish to clear. The memory that was dimmed in the first place."

And if they couldn't? Those memories would be gone forever. Desperation clawed at her and Hermione shook her head. "No, it's a risk. I don't—" her voice caught. "I don't want to forget. What if we can't get it back?" Suddenly the thought of losing her memories of him was too much to bear, even with the risk.

"It's why I wanted to focus on the Occlumency first. This, this spell would be a last resort." He grabbed her hand, pulling her to him, placing a kiss on her palm. "I would never forget this." Her heart warmed, and she shook her head. No, she could never forget. He was branded in her soul now. Keeping her hand with his, Hermione stood, pulling him to his feet.

"Show me." Hermione quietly commanded. Draco moved behind her, placing his hand atop hers as it held her wand.

"The movement, it's soft. Just like the spell itself. It's to soften the memory, to dull it." Hermione was acutely aware of his hand on hers. The solid length of him just a hairs breadth away from her back. She needed to focus, but she was so aware of the pure physicality of their positions. If she wasn't so concerned about learning as much as she could in this moment, she'd lean back into him instead and relish his touch. And it was that pull of desire that made her heart ache and doubt.

"I'll never forget." She murmured the words as if they were a vow.

"We'll never forget." Draco leaned in closer, brushing his mouth against her throat. Firming his grip on her wand, he moved with her, showing her the movement for the incantation. Once they'd performed the action a few times, he loosened his grip, trailing his fingers up her forearm before slipping his arm possessively around her waist.

"Memoraie dimidiate." Hermione let her wand arm fall as he whispered the words in her ear. He pressed a kiss against her temple, saying the words again. They became a chant between kisses as he trailed his lips down her jaw, along her neck, to her shoulder. Hermione's skin buzzed from the attention. It was enough. Hermione leaned into him, felt the hard press of his body against hers, her head tilted as if in invitation. It wasn't one that Draco would decline. Desire fizzed in her blood. She wanted. His kisses, they weren't enough. She needed more. Lips on lips. Skin on skin.

Holding his hands fast to her, she turned in his embrace. He looked at her through heavy eyes, the desire unmistakable. She tugged at him, demanded his lips for her own. She feasted and let all thoughts of tomorrow fall away. She kissed, he kissed. She touched, he touched. It was so good to simply _feel_. Reality had caught up to them, and had kept them from _this_ for too long. Time was short. Why couldn't she allow herself this? To indulge in the physical, to let him make her forget everything else in the world.

In her desperation to make the world go away, she tugged at his robes, wanting contact, wanting him. Draco's hands covered her own, attempting to still her.

"Hermione..." He breathed heavily and she pressed a kiss to the tip of his chest where his robes had parted. He wanted to tell her to slow down. That there was time. That they had time. But he knew they didn't. And he couldn't possibly think clearly when each kiss wasn't enough. Hermione pulled her hands free of his, insistently tugging at his robes, her lips following the newly exposed trail.

"More." Hermione implored as she trailed back up to his mouth, placing his hands on her hips, and looking up at him with her heart in her eyes.

Draco let his eyes fall closed, and for a moment, Hermione worried that he'd deny her. When he opened them again, stormy grey orbs raked over her for a moment before his lips crashed onto hers. He pulled her against him, somewhat desperately, in agreement.

"More."


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione snuggled deep in the covers of the bed. Draco had pulled the covers up around them, not to ward off any chill as there wasn't any with the fire still crackling, but in deference to Hermione's modesty. A fact she appreciated, even as she felt surprisingly at ease with everything that had just happened. She turned and smiled against his shoulder.

Draco stroked her hair absently as she rested against his chest. This was definitely against all the rules. Turning the Room of Requirement into their own private refuge had been a brilliant idea. But probably not what it had been intended for. She pressed a soft kiss against his skin, wishing she could stay in this quiet cocoon for a bit longer.

"How long can we stay here?" She hated asking the question. But it had to be said. Someone was bound to notice they were missing eventually. His hands stilled for a moment and then resumed their caresses, moving lower to grace her bare back.

"Forever if I had my way," he glanced at her, trying to hide his melancholy behind his trademark smirk. She snuggled closer and didn't say a word. She didn't want to break the magic spell they had woven in these walls. He pressed a fierce kiss to the top of her head.

"We're probably safe until early morning. No one will come looking for me. And since you've already spent one night here…" he smirked more fully this time, pleased that she had taken his advice that long ago night in the Tower.

"Another few hours then." She murmured. She wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him closer to her. She pressed her lips to his, feeling him smile. She liked making him smile. He seemed to do it so infrequently. But not around her. No when they were together it was as if he remembered how.

He gently rolled on top of her, stroking her sides, caressing her flesh. She shivered, then moaned, and then returned the favour. Her touches were bolder now, and less frenzied. This time they took their time. Sweet slow torture. Lingering touches. Hot warm kisses. Deliberate deep strokes.

Hermione lost herself in the ecstasy of it. Draco did the same. It was as if her touch was a drug and he couldn't get enough. Like she was oxygen and he was suffocating. He needed her. And she wasn't willing to give him up.

* * *

Days later, Hermione still felt a delicious buzz from their interlude. Everything was heightened. Her feelings. Her desire. Hermione knew that meant she was more invested in this than before, if that was possible. But even in the light of day, Hermione couldn't bring herself to regret that night. Amidst all the danger, all the secrets and lies, it was still one of the most monumental moments of her life. And she wouldn't have wanted it with anyone else.

Not that it truly _changed_ anything. He had left her in the early morning, before the castle began to move with life again, and his eyes full of apology. But he wouldn't voice them. No, because he knew as well as she did that this was how their relationship had to be. And yet, for her, one thing _had_ changed. Now he took a piece of her heart with him wherever he went. And that heart was beating through sudden fear.

It was dark as Hermione hastened through the halls, prompted by an overheard conversation in the girl's lavatory.

" _I swear, Goyle is simply desperate for attention. He insisted he saw Draco stumbling up to the castle, blood spurting from his mouth. And of couse I had to just rush to his side." Pansy Parkinson's voice grew louder as she entered the lavatory. Hermione froze in her stall, anxious to hear more._

 _There was a nondescript grunt from her companion. "Time we got there, no Draco. I don't even think he was there," Pansy whined in a loud whisper. "He's never around anymore." The sound of running water muffled the voices. "But if he thinks I'd settle for him over the Malfoy heir, even with everything, he's even dumber than I thought."_

Hermione was making her way to the Astronomy Tower in a frenzied state. It would not be the first time she found him licking his wounds there. But this time, she was more fearful than ever. When he told her he was going home for the Easter holidays, she had begged him, pleaded for him not to go. He had insisted that he had to return to his family and it struck her then how little had changed in the grand scheme of things. It had infuriated her that he would take such risks for no apparent reason. Not all students returned home for the holidays. She didn't. Ron didn't.

And now he was back? Early at that. How had he managed it? Students usually returned by train, as usual, at the end of the week. There were still two days left before everyone was due back. And, unlike Pansy, Hermione somehow didn't think that Goyle was wrong. Knowing Draco's determination, he had most likely dragged himself away from prying eyes.

Anger mixed with the fear. He was so concerned about protecting his mother. But who was protecting him? Every time he went home – every damn time – he came back more damaged than before. He was shattering before her eyes and she didn't know how to stop it.

She apprehensively entered the Astronomy Tower, hoping she was wrong.

"Draco?" she called out softly. It sounded crazy, but she was sure she could _feel_ him here. She moved further into the room just as the moon cast a beam straight onto an unconscious form. Hermione gasped as she took in Draco's crumpled body. Hermione dropped to his side, noting his pasty pallor and the blood which still slowly seeped in a dark river down his jaw.

"No…" the word came out slowly, drawn out in a whisper. Desperate, Hermione began checking for signs of life, feeling for a pulse.

"Please, please, please" she placed her fingers by his neck. And then cursed herself for her stupidity. Was she a witch or not? She pulled out her wand and ran some of the healing spells she had learned for this purpose, looking for some signs of life.

"Not dead… but what is wrong with you?" She whispered. Closing her eyes, she tried to think, tried to control her emotions and stem the tears that were precariously close to coming. He was alive and she could breathe again. But she couldn't figure out why he was unconscious. And despite her efforts she couldn't revive him.

Hermione began to panic again. She couldn't simply leave him here. They couldn't tell anyone, but if he stayed like this he could die. But what would she say? How could she explain this? There was only one person Hermione could think of to confide in and she prayed that she wasn't making the wrong decision.

"I'm sorry," She whispered as she stroked back the hair on his forehead. Then she leapt up and darted down the tower's stairs. Down, down, down, Hermione traveled through the castle with more speed than she ever had moved before. She didn't pause to think that she should conceal herself or that she should move cautiously. She just knew that Draco needed help _now_ and she knew where to find it.

She entered the dungeons and burst through the door to the Potions classroom. Making her way to what she hoped was the door to the professor's private quarters, she began banging on it in earnest.

"Professor! Professor Snape, please!" she exclaimed, willing that she was in the right place and that she wouldn't have a bunch of Slytherins greeting her instead. She kept banging, not noticing the figure that emerged from behind her.

"Miss Granger, I expect you want a month's detention if you think you can –" Hermione spun around at the sound of Professor Snape's voice and interrupted him instantly.

"Oh not this nonsense now!" She snapped. "Just come. It's Draco." Before hearing his response, Hermione had darted back out the door and ran back up the stairs, praying that he was following her. She hadn't gone to him in vain. He quietly and swiftly moved behind her, keeping up with her frantic pace.

It was only when she went up the steps a second time that she noticed the tell-tale spots of blood on the floor. When she burst back into the tower, Draco was as he had left her. She was by his side in an instant, unsure what to do next, but not wanting to leave him.

It took only a moment for Professor Snape to swoop down next to Draco's form.

"And just what did your stupid friends do to him?" he hissed, his wand sweeping back and forth doing diagnostics.

Hermione stared at him, mortified. "They did nothing! They don't even know I'm here! I came and found him—" Hermione's voice caught as the reality of the situation pressed upon her. _They didn't know she was here_. But at the moment, it was a secondary concern. Hermione blindly grasped for Draco's hand, and became more worried as he remained unconscious despite Professor Snape's spellwork.

"I thought he was dead…" she whispered, the tears pooling in her eyes. Professor Snape was not oblivious. Her actions, her words... Snape unconsciously lowered his wand and stared at Hermione in horrified wonder. Hermione was so caught up in her own fear that she didn't see that her feelings for Draco were written clearly upon her tear-streaked face. Not willing to let the girl know that what a blow this knowledge was, Snape proceeded to poke and prod at Draco.

"I will take him to the dungeons. I believe I know the cause of his state and should have an antidote in my laboratory. _Levicorpus_ " Draco's body rose into the air and floated in front of Snape as he guided the boy down the stairs. Hermione released his hand, but followed his floating body. Despite her fears and emotional state, she still knew enough to clear any evidence that they had been there. A simple _Scurgify_ removed the blood stains from the floors and steps as they made their way back down.

Somehow they made it back to the dungeons in one piece. Hermione had a suspicion that Snape had done something to ensure that, but her current state wouldn't allow her to ask any questions about that at the moment.

Severus knew that the girl had followed him and wondered if it would be best to send her away. Whatever was going on between the two students was serious indeed, and most likely dangerous for both. He would need to talk to Draco. This was an unexpected development and would need careful handling. After he had lowered Draco to the sofa in his private rooms, he turned to Miss Granger, intending to order her to leave.

"If you think I am going anywhere, Professor, you are sorely mistaken," she said before he had the chance to open his mouth. She had already made herself comfortable in a nearby armchair, and was had her arms wrapped around her middle, as if restraining herself.

"I will stay out of your way, but I will not leave him. So you best get to healing him."

Severus stared at Miss Granger, surprised at her attitude. He could force her to leave, use magic or threaten to reveal their secret. But he wouldn't. For now at least, this was something best kept within these walls. He had no intention of admitting this, but the witch had done something few could. She had surprised him. Perhaps that was why this entire situation made him feel out of sorts. So, in a surprising act of acquiescence, he let her stay.

"If you are going to stay, you may as well be of some use," he snapped, "Go to that cupboard behind you and dampen some of the towels. Though the antidote will work, he will be fitful and feverish for some time after." Hermione leapt to her feet to do as instructed while Severus went to obtain the necessary potions. He propped Draco up and managed to pour the contents down his throat. Hermione sat by his side, damp towels at the ready. Draco started to toss and murmur agitatedly.

"It's all right Draco, I'm here, you're safe," she murmured as she gently stroked his head. Severus watched her incredulously. How had this happened? Before he could ask, Hermione had questions of her own that needed answering.

"What has happened to him? A curse? A potion? And who did it?" She demanded, her eyes never leaving Draco's face. As if somehow Snape had all the answers that Draco could not give her in his present state.

Snape watched the two of them and wondered why the girl was so open with her feelings in front of him. Did the Headmaster know of this? McGonagall? Her friends most certainly didn't. He pondered a moment, debating how much he should reveal to her.

Considering his position, he decided on something as close to the truth as he could surmise.

"Rodolphus likes to dabble in Potions," he admitted hesitantly. It was quite possible that Miss Granger knew this already, Draco being related to the man through marriage. "Bellatrix prefers the _Cruciatus_. However, under special circumstances, and after she's had her _fun_ , she will turn to Rodolphus when extreme measures are necessary."

Hermione's head snapped up as a new fear began to unfurl in her stomach. She locked eyes with the Professor.

"What extreme measures? And when—" she swallowed audibly, "when would those measures be needed?"

Snape maintained eye contact, intending on using _Legillimency_. Hermione was prepared. She knew what he would do once they were facing each other. It was only the slight tick in his jaw that revealed his displeasure and surprise that she had managed to evade him. Satisfaction temporarily bloomed in her chest. Oh, he could probe deeper, harder. But he wouldn't risk it. And, as per Draco's ideas, she had managed to redirect her thoughts instead of banishing him from her mind. He was not expecting that.

Eyes narrowed, Snape sat in the seat across from her. A heavy dose of reality was needed. This entire _affair_ was much too dangerous for a pair of teenagers!

"He may have used his amended _Veritaserum_." Hermione gave a sharp intake of breath, but Snape gave her no mind. "Unfortunately, I have no way of detecting that at present, with Mister Malfoy's state." Snape turned and wiped the blood from the side of Draco's mouth.

"This though was the first clue that he had used something else. No this," he gestured at Draco's feverish body, "this is a warning." _Or a punishment_ , the Potion's Master thought.

"What is it exactly?" Hermione asked, her mind still as curious as ever. More comfortable with this familiar territory, Snape briefly provided an explanation.

"Something along the lines of a reverse blood-replenishing potion. It is slow-acting and worms its way through the system. The blood is slowly drained from the victim, usually poured out through various orifices." Hermione flinched in horror at the viciousness of such a potion.

"That's, that's disgusting. Appalling," she turned to Draco once more. A quick perusal revealed that blood had only come from his mouth. Snape answered the question before she asked.

"He was not given a full dose. A diluted one, or perhaps another _modification_ ," he sneered at the word, "that Rodolphus has made. But my antidote, with the help of a blood-replenishing potion, should work over the next few hours.

And it is meant, Miss Granger, to be appalling. Rodolphus uses it as a form of torture, the promise of the antidote the dangling carrot."

"A few hours?" Hermione whispered. She couldn't stay here a few _hours_ , could she? She quickly drew a mental picture of the Marauder's Map and with relief realized that the Professor's private quarters were never seen on it. She had used the excuse of needing to get away from Lavender and Parvati's late night chats the last time she slept in the Room of Requirement. Such an excuse would work again. She hoped.

"Patience is part of the art of Potions, Miss Granger. He will survive," he added a touch more gently.

They both stared at the unconscious boy in silence. Severus frowned. What he would like to know most of all was _who_ had decided that Draco needed to be punished to such an extent. And for what reason. Not that he would share that with Miss Granger. He had given her enough information to think about for one evening.

"Why?" Hermione whispered, so quietly that Snape might not have needed reply.

"That is a question only Mister Malfoy can answer."

And both conscious figures in the room worried about one thing. That the reason Draco Malfoy lay in this state was because the secret was out.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)


	14. Chapter 14

Draco slowly awoke in a dimly lit room, disoriented and stiff. In a blind panic, he tried to free himself from the tangled blankets which ensnared him as he realized he was not in his own bed. It was only as he turned in his fit that he saw her. Hermione was curled in a cozy looking armchair, a book abandoned in her lap. He calmed for a brief moment. She was here and unharmed. And yet… doubt filled his mind. Had they gotten her? Were they in his head perhaps? Mocking him, tempting him with this vision? No. Despite what he had gone through, his nerves weren't prickling and he didn't feel on edge. They must be safe. He sighed and hissed as he felt the pain cutting along his abdomen.

"You've awoken." The voice was low, probably to keep from waking the sleeping girl. Draco looked up in surprise as Snape appeared from the shadows. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked around discretely. They were, he surmised, in the Professor's private quarters. Or so he hoped.

"Where are we?" Draco asked quietly, needing to hear that they were indeed in a safe location. He also didn't wish to disturb Hermione. Severus glanced at the sleeping witch and rolled his eyes when he noticed the book.

"We are in my private quarters obviously. And Miss Granger has apparently seen fit to make herself at home."

Draco caught himself just before he broke into an affectionate smile. That would never do. The question was, how much did Snape know? There was only one way to find out.

"Well it's your own fault for letting such filth in here. What is she doing in here anyway?" Draco determinedly avoided looking at Hermione, and focused on Snape, trying to add just enough disgust to his voice. Snape was not to be trusted. _No one_ was to be trusted. What if he told the Dark Lord? Or his parents? They would come after her.

"Enough Draco. I think the reason for her presence is quite clear." Severus stared at him, his obsidian eyes revealing nothing. Draco began to panic, but was determined to deter Snape if he could. He had to convince him that she meant nothing.

"It's nothing Severus. Just a one off. Obviously, the Gryffindor in her has her trying to make something more of it." Draco spoke casually, keeping his voice soft, praying that she didn't hear him, praying that Snape believed him.

Severus looked at him through his cold mask and then glanced at Hermione.

"Do you believe you can you stand?" Surprised by the request, Draco moved his legs, relieved to find that there was no pain with the action, then nodded. He most likely could manage. Without giving Draco much time, Severus reached out and hoisted him to his feet, practically dragging him into the adjoining room.

Severus closed the door and cast a quick Silencing charm. When he turned to back to Draco, his eyes were alive with rage.

"Is that the best you can do? That pitiful little lie? What sort of protection is that against the Dark Lord? Against his followers? Draco what were you thinking?" Snape's voice was soft, but the anger in his words shook Draco. Draco stared at him, mortified. He had failed.

Desperate, Draco tried to discreetly reach for his wand, but he didn't have it on him. He felt like an idiot, wandless, powerless. So he did the only thing he could. He launched himself at Snape, hoping to get his wand and cast an _Obliviate_. But he hadn't accounted for his lack of strength after his ordeal or Snape's swiftness. He managed to knock the grown man to the ground, simply because Snape did not expect the boy to attempt a physical assault. Snape easily knocked him off and flung him against the opposite wall, his hand to Draco's throat.

"Do you have a death wish?" he hissed, then let his arm fall and stepped back, letting Draco slide to the ground. "I am not going to harm you Draco." Draco did not look up. Despite every precaution he had taken, he had still managed to put her danger. It was no relief knowing _he_ was safe.

"Or Miss Granger." Draco's eyes whipped up from the ground. Severus ran a hand down his face and sat down heavily on the bed.

"I am quite aware that Miss Granger is in love with you Draco. And, as your actions have just revealed, you are most likely in love with her as well. I presume I am the only other person who knows of this?"

Defeated, Draco nodded mutely from his place on the floor. He was tempted. He needed to trust someone. He had Hermione. He could trust her. But she didn't understand the darkness. She didn't face the evil on a daily basis. She didn't have the same fears. But Snape. Draco glanced at the Potions Master. How many times had Snape offered him his help? And how many times had Draco rebuffed him? But this time… he thought of Hermione. He obviously couldn't protect her on his own. She hadn't told her friends. But she had gone to Snape. It was already a step in the direction of trust.

Draco's words began to pour out of him. "I don't know how to protect her now. I didn't expect for this to happen. You know how it is. You know what I've been raised to believe. You know what my family is like. I mean, Bellatrix Lestrange is my damned aunt, and she's _his_ most loyal supporter. But then there was Granger. This constant contradiction of everything I had been taught to believe. And she's just so damned good. A light in my otherwise dark existence. I didn't want to give her up."

Severus stared at the wall. Finally the boy was talking to him. All year he had been trying to help him. And now this, this was what he decided was the priority. And yet… his own memories began to creep in. How he had failed to protect the one he loved. He in fact had been instrumental in her demise. Was Draco doomed to repeat his actions? Fate could not be so cruel.

"You've taught her Occlumancy," Severus observed mildly. That would be apparent to only those skilled in the craft. Draco had managed to divert his thoughts the entire year and Hermione's mind had taken a similar turn when Snape had tried to read her thoughts. "And you've been Occluding all year."

Draco gave a curt nod, but his affirmation was unnecessary.

"It stops now. Are you finally ready to let me help you?"

Draco's looked at him through guarded eyes. "Why would you want to help me?"

"Stupid boy! I've been trying to help you all year!" Snape began to pace the length of the room. "Do you think I don't _know_ what has been asked of you? That I don't know the consequences should you not succeed?"

Draco looked as if he had been struck. _He knew_. All this time, he knew. Had there even been a point in hiding it from him?

"What about the consequences should I succeed?" he asked softly. No one thought he could do it. Bloody hell, he didn't think he could do it. He didn't _want_ to do it.

"Can you stand there and tell me that you can do this? While she sleeps just beyond the door?" Snape sneered in disgust. "If you couldn't do it before, you most certainly can't now."

"It's not… that's not a relevant factor," Draco protested weakly. The words burned his throat.

"You are not an idiot Draco, so stop pretending to be one. Living in ignorance will achieve nothing. It will change nothing."

"I don't have a choice!" Draco shouted. "You of all people know what he is capable of. I tried," Draco swallowed back his pain, "I tried to end it. To stop it. You saw what happened."

Snape's mouth pressed into a grim line. "What exactly did you do?"

"I went home, like a fool," Draco muttered angrily. Hermione had tried so hard to convince him to stay. She had been right. "I thought if I explained to Aunt Bella that I'd tried and failed, that she'd…"

Snape sneered again, rage and disgust simmering. "You thought what? That she'd do it for you?"

Angry with himself and humiliated, Draco let his head collapse in his hands. "Yes, alright? I thought she would do it. I'm a coward."

Severus grimaced, having nothing to say to that. Something though didn't sit right with the Professor. "You said you explained… about what? Those two pathetic failed attempts?"

"They were not pathetic! You know the extent of magic I had to use for the first one? And the second would have been successful had it been consumed by the proper person!" Draco flinched at his words, an uncomfortable tension unravelling in his stomach. He had felt so _guilty_. Over the Weasel no less. But Hermione, she would have been devastated had something happened to him. And despite the fact that her relationship with Weasley irritated him to no end, he didn't wish the boy dead.

"That is not the point Draco. What exactly did you tell her? What does she _know_?" Snape's mind was whirling as he tried to figure out the damage that Draco might have done.

Clarity dawned. "You think I told her about Hermione." This time the disgust was self-directed. What type of man did Snape think he was that he'd risk such danger to the woman he loved?

"Told is not the word I'd use… but yes, I wondered if she'd managed to _extract_ the information from you." Draco realized that while his previous condition spoke volumes, it lacked details. The Professor had been speculating all this time without knowing _why_ he was in this state.

"Well she didn't." Draco replied shortly. "She does not know about Hermione and I intend to keep it that way."

Severus didn't bother asking _how_ he planned to do that.

"She has no intention of helping me with the final task," Draco swallowed audibly, that uncomfortable tension unfurling again, "But she has her ways of providing… moral support. She's latched on to one of my earlier suggestions—" Draco cringed, how he hated himself for it now, "and insisted I find a way to make it work. So she can be here."

Draco let Snape fully absorb those words before continuing. "And when I tried to convince her that it was futile, that it _wouldn't work_ , that I couldn't make it work, well she insisted that I could. She just thought I needed a little more incentive."

"So she had Rodolphus poison you." That explained his condition then.

"No." Draco's eyes clouded. "She had him poison my mother."

"Her sister?" Severus couldn't mask his surprise. Every meeting he'd witnessed between the two sisters suggested a fierce protectiveness, even in times of disagreement. Hell, Bellatrix had even performed the binding for their Unbreakable Vow, though she didn't trust Snape one bit.

"I had thought," Draco confessed, "that Aunt Bella wouldn't harm her. That even though she'd hurt _me_ that she wouldn't hurt my mother. But I knew. I knew by the look in her eyes when we were all eating that night at the table. Her smirk and the way her eyes darted to the glass. And I couldn't let her do it. So I snatched the goblet from my mother's hands, drank it all in one shot. She was naturally appalled at my manners." Draco actually smiled at that. If only she knew. His behaviour of late had been so far from normal, that Narcissa hardly suspected she was being poisoned. She thought the strain was getting to Draco and naturally accounted for his change in behaviour.

"You didn't start bleeding immediately?" Severus questioned. This would be a new development that would he should take note of.

Draco shook his head. "I expected to. I excused myself almost immediately from the room so that Mother wouldn't see. And when nothing happened, I excused myself from the Manor with the pretense of returning to Hogwarts to work on the task."

"Why would you risk returning not even knowing what you had been poisoned with? Rodolphus surely had an antidote." Even as he asked the question, Severus suspected the answer. Why would you take anything from a person who delighted in your suffering?

Draco's mouth thinned. "This poison isn't untraceable. I had heard him bragging about his potions before, had seen many of them at work. Based on the sour taste alone I figured out quite quickly what it was likely to be. It was the delay that surprised me. But I could feel it working its way through me.

And I… I didn't want to give her the satisfaction." Draco muttered darkly.

Severus paused and looked at Draco thoughtfully. "It was rather foolish to leave in such a state."

"I survived. I don't believe her intention was to kill my mother, it was to scare me. To _motivate_ me. I knew I wouldn't die. But I wasn't about to let Mother suffer for my actions. For my decisions."

"And Bellatrix? How did she react to this turn of events?" That woman was unstable and therefore often unpredictable. Not a quality Severus favoured in an adversary.

"Well, considering I had thwarted her manoeuvers. But the end result was the same. I said I was returning to fulfill my task. " Draco wasn't sure how he could do so now. He wasn't sure how he couldn't, not with his mother alone at the hands of a madman and a sister likely to feed her to the snakes.

"If I succeed, I think he might—" Draco looked away, feeling small, "I think he might bring my father back." While Draco had spent much of the year hating his father—and he still did—for the first time in a long time, Draco felt like he _needed_ him. He needed him to come back and provide the protection his mother needed. Because if Lucius Malfoy returned, maybe the target would transfer back to his back. Or if the fates were good, somehow this would restore favour to the Malfoy family and he wouldn't have to worry about his parents being killed on a daily basis.

"It's possible." Severus admitted hesitantly. The Dark Lord was known to reward his followers… just not as often as he was known to punish. "You realize of course that his return would only pose another threat to your relationship with Miss Granger?"

"He's not my biggest problem. His return depends entirely on my successfully completing my task. If it gets that far… well, then I don't think I will have to worry about that." Because if he succeeded, then there would be no relationship. Hermione would feel nothing but hate and loathing toward him. She would never forgive him.

"How were you planning on continuing this?" Severus was genuinely curious as to how Draco had imagined he could carry on a relationship with a Muggleborn witch while his family – while _he_ – served the Dark Lord. And not just any Muggleborn, but Hermione Granger. If he thought of turning to Dumbledore for help, Severus would be surprised. It would most definitely throw a twist into the Headmaster's plans.

"I don't know," Draco confessed. His heart hurt at the thought of losing Hermione, but his head couldn't find a way out. He couldn't confide in Severus about Hermione's hopes that he'd get help from the light side. His mother was ensnared. There was no getting her out. And everything he did now was to keep her alive. "I think I always knew that it'd end eventually. I tried to stop it a few times, but she wouldn't let me." Draco allowed himself a quick smile then, a sad smile as he recalled her insistence on continuing their relationship. She didn't have an end date in sight. He, however, knew that their time was quickly ticking down.

"You realize of course that she has a part to play as well?" Severus said slowly.

Draco looked at him with a mistrustful gaze. "I won't stop her. I won't keep her from doing what she needs to. _He_ never asked that of me. I won't harm her."

Severus sighed. "I've already said I won't harm Miss Granger, Draco. I wasn't implying you should do anything to her." Severus leaned forward, his eyes intense. "But you must know that you have a part to play as well. Trying to avoid it will do you no good. We are all pawns in a much bigger game than you could imagine."

"And I'm just supposed to meekly play my part? Do my _duty_?" Draco sneered, but his words were raw. "Why must I give up what I want?" They were childish words, but Draco wanted to be childish. Wanted to be childish and selfish and run away from these problems with Hermione in tow.

Severus stared at the boy in front of him, and tried to remember that he was _still just a boy_. He had so much to learn, but already had so much to lose.

"Because this is a war Draco. And your… interference with Miss Granger will only do her more harm than good. Will only do _you_ more harm than good. You are distracted. Distractions lead to mistakes and neither of you can afford to make any. Not if you wish to survive."

A harsh knocking sounded at the door, followed by a frantic voice, muffled slightly by the wood door.

"Professor? Professor Snape, I hope you're in there. Because if you're not and Draco is missing…" Hermione's voice drifted off, her concern clear.

Severus turned to Draco as he stood to get the door.

"You know what you must do." Before Draco could reply, Snape opened the door to let in a worried Hermione.

"Mister Malfoy is here Miss Granger so you may cease your hysterics. He is perfectly fine, as you can see." Severus stepped aside at gestured at the young Malfoy. Hermione shoulders slumped in relief, but she didn't cross the entryway.

"You're all right," she breathed, her eyes bright with relief.

Severus barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "As I said he would be. I will give the two of you five minutes in the other room. After that, it would be in your best interests to have departed from my quarters." He gave Draco a pointed looked, ushering the two into his main sitting area.

As the door shut behind them, Hermione launched herself at Draco. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. Their lips met in a fiery burst of adrenaline, fear, and relief. She let the fire burn through her before she gradually pulled away, her breathing slightly laboured in the best way. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, then thumped a hand against his chest.

"Why didn't you wake me? I was terrified when you weren't lying there. I thought.." Hermione shivered. She had worried that he had gotten worse. That Professor Snape couldn't help him as she'd hoped and that he'd been moved to the Hospital Wing or St. Mungo's.

Draco stared at her annoyed and worried gaze. He knew he should _say_ something. Anything.

"You looked so peaceful." That was the truth. "And beautiful. You are so beautiful, you know that?" He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he rested his chin atop her head. All he could think of were Snape's last words. Were they a warning? A threat? An order? None of those were appealing options. He knew what the Potion's Master said was true. He just wasn't ready to take that step yet. Even if he had to eventually.

Hermione smiled, unaware of his stressful thoughts, and shook her head against his chest. She let herself lay there for a moment, enjoying the feel of his chest and the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

"Well, it doesn't seem to have affected your charm, so I'll take that to mean you're fit again." As fit as could be anyway.

He didn't answer, just pulled her tighter, breathing deep, inhaling the very essence of her. How was he supposed to let her go? Snape would know if he didn't end it. It would have disastrous repercussions. But he wasn't ready. And who was Snape to tell him that he had to let her go? She was his, he was hers, and that's all there was to it. Except that wasn't all there was to it. It was never that simple.

He loosened his grip and captured her surprised mouth again. She tasted oh so sweet. He could go on kissing her forever. Devouring her for his personal pleasure. He nibbled at her lips, she moaned, and everything lit up inside him. He knew that she was it for him. So how could he not do the right thing by her?

 _Not yet_ , a voice pleaded within him. Just not yet. Another kiss, this one deeper, harder, trying to capture a lifetime of memories in one moment. She shook as she tore her lips away.

"You're tired Draco. And… we can't do this in a _Professor's_ quarters," she blushed as she hissed her reprimand, but all Draco could see were her softened brown eyes, dark with desire.

"And we should leave soon. We've been here all night you know," she looked down and fiddled with the buttons on his robes. He captured her hand and pressed a silent, pleading kiss to her palm.

"I know. But just, not yet." She tilted her head as she looked at him, but he kissed her quickly, needing her. Needing to let her go. But just not yet.


	15. Chapter 15

Draco's eyes fluttered slowly open. He easily recalled where he was, as he had been flitting in and out of consciousness for the past few hours. This time, though, he was acutely aware that there was someone else near him in the Hospital Wing. Grimacing slightly from the stiffness in his muscles, he turned over to inspect his surroundings. Only to find Hermione curled up in the chair next to his bed. He smiled at her sleeping form, the hair fallen across her face, and her chest raising and falling evenly in her sleep. She was so much more than anything he could have every imagined. Frustration, guilt and panic warred within him. They couldn't be _seen_. How many times must they go through this? He quickly pulled himself up from the bed, intent on waking her. Only to see her form disappear from sight. Confused, he leaned back, and saw her again. He breathed a sigh of relief as realization dawned. She had cast a Disillusionment Charm. Only partially, he gathered, so that her presence wouldn't startle him. His clever witch.

"You're awake." Hermione's sleepy voice broke his train of thought. He could hear the pleasure in it and found himself relieved by that.

"Only just. What are you doing here?" He needn't have asked. The look she gave him told him exactly why she was here.

"As if I would leave you right now. But you need to stop doing this to me you know. I'm not sure how much my heart can take." Her voice was teasing, but the undercurrent of truth to her words rang clear. That was twice this month she'd seen him like this. Cursed and unable to save himself. This time though, she wasn't the one who had found him. He hated to admit it, but he owed Snape _another_ thanks for saving his life. If he wasn't careful he'd owe that cunning wizard a Life Debt. He was pretty sure he didn't want to be in that position under the circumstances. He had only just begun to trust him again, after all.

Hermione's fingers worried at the cuff of her robe, and he knew something was seriously troubling her. She looked at him through pleading eyes.

"Harry didn't mean – I mean, I know you two have your... differences," she hedged, knowing full well that the animosity between them went far beyond that, "but he just... the foolish boy just spouted something from that awful book and I warned him! I warned him that book was trouble... that cursed Half-Blood Prince" she murmured angrily, lost in her rage. Draco sat up a little straighter.

"What book?" Draco felt the unease trickle through him.

Hermione's face cleared as she attempted to get a hold of herself. As much as she hated that book, it wouldn't do to be revealing Harry's poor decisions to Draco. As it was, she knew that Draco had been suspicious of Harry's progress in Potions as well.

"Just some book he found by chance. It doesn't matter anymore," she said, sighing. "The book is gone and thankfully, you're alright. That's what matters now."

Draco looked away for a moment, hurt by her lack of trust in him. He had a strong suspicion that it wasn't just any random book. He'd heard enough over the years to suspect who this Half-Blood Prince was. And it would make perfect sense considering _he'd_ known the countercurse almost immediately. Did he owe a life-debt when the person was responsible for the curse in the first place?

But his hurt was irrelevant. Evidently, Potter hadn't mentioned what else had transpired in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. In a moment of insane weakness, he had found himself reacting to Potter in the most hurtful way he could think of. He had been an easy target, a way to unleash his pain, frustration, and despair. The darkness had unfurled within him and found a way out through a dark curse. It wasn't right. But it had happened. He could hardly blame her for keeping her secrets when he was keeping so many of his own.

"You need to stop taking these risks, you know. I'll be fine." The words stung as they left his mouth. It touched him in so many ways that she'd come here for him, yet again. At the same time, he was tired of her seeing him like this. Weak, powerless. An injured victim that constantly needed care. Was that who he was now? Was that how she saw him?

"I know you'll be fine." She said the words adamently, wanting to believe them, knowing that there could easily come a time when he wouldn't be. "But this is what you do when you care about someone Draco. You stay by their side when they need you."

He softened a little, smirking gently. "Is it now? So you care about me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, leaned forward and smacked his arm. "You just want to hear me say it again."

"Maybe," he confessed, feeling good for a minute. He grabbed her arm, tugging her closer. Hermione stumbled from the chair onto the edge of the bed.

"Draco!" she hissed, looking around worriedly. He scoffed.

"Oh so now you're worried about being seen? What about when you were sleeping by my side? You didn't think anyone would question that?"

She flushed. "Well… I was too concerned to care too much. And I had checked!" She protested weakly, even as she climbed up onto the bed beside him. "Madam Pomfrey had left and you are the only occupant tonight." She settled gently beside him, finding comfort in his embrace. "But maybe I can stay, for just a few more minutes."

She nestled into the crook of his shoulder and Draco gently stroked her arm, hating the barrier of her robes from soft skin.

"No funny business, Draco. You're still recovering."

He snorted and his hand continued its exploration. "That's never stopped us before." Hermione let him. She let him stroke and touch and distract her with the lightest of kisses. Because if he didn't, she'd go back to thinking. Thinking that Harry's actions only served to prove one thing – that if he found out about her relationship with Draco, their friendship could be over.

* * *

"Where has he gone?" Hermione looked up at Harry's agitated muttering. For the first time in what felt like ages, the three of them had been working together on their assignments in the library. The Golden Trio reunited. If a little fractured. Harry had finally gotten rid of that potions book and it was a relief to no longer have that issue to worry about. The other issues, well, they weighed on her mind and heart daily. After parting from Draco the other night, doubts niggled at her constantly. Would Harry ever accept a relationship between them? Was it worth the risk to anger and alienate him when there was so much at stake?

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione sighed as she looked up from her notes. The boys were a full assignment behind her. She had already finished her Herbology essay and had moved on to Defence. Harry's eyes were fixated on the book infront of him, but Hermione had a sinking feeling that it wasn't the text he was focused on.

Harry flushed guiltily, but gave her a defiant look. "Tracking Malfoy, alright? I know what you said, that Dumbledore would know if something was going on, but I don't trust him. He keeps disappearing, spending hours in the Room of Requirement…"

 _Tell him!_ Hermione felt her conscience desperately trying to voice the words that she determindly shut down. _He was there to meet me, to see me_. So many times they had met in that room. Once again, Hermione remained silent and the words sunk into the pit of her stomach.

"Merlin mate, have you been looking at that this whole time? Mione said we could break and grab a bite in the Great Hall when we've caught up on Herbology." Ron snatched Harry's book away. "You've barely even started," he groaned.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. Ron was still shaking his head over the delay in his lunch.

"What? It's what you said. And at least I've been working." Ron snatched a piece of parchment from Harry's book.

"What are you doing? Give it here!" Harry hissed, but Ron just shoved the parchment at Hermione.

She gingerly tucked the Marauder's Map away, though she too wanted to see exactly _where_ Draco had gone. Guilt gnawed at Hermione as she spoke. "You need to focus on your studies Harry. I'll hold onto this for today. Just until you've finished those papers."

"And we've gotten a meal." Ron added pointedly. Harry openly glared at the two of them.

"He is up to something. He's disappeared off the map." Harry crossed his arms and looked at them expectantly.

"I'm not saying your wrong about Malfoy. He's a prat. A pathetic one. But no matter what he's doing, _we've_ still got to get a paper into Snape." Both Harry and Hermione were surprised by Ron's sudden defence of _doing_ his homework.

Though… Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. He did want to become an Auror. And he'd absolutely need to pass Defence to do so. Perhaps it wasn't so surprising after all.

"Fine." Harry muttered, snatching up his book. Hermione watched him work for a moment, her emotions in turmoil. Her desire to confess to Harry was strong, but her desire to know _where_ Draco was was stronger. After a few more minutes of work, she quietly got up to get another book. But while she was gone, she took the opportunity to take a look at the map. Hoping her suspicions were right, she trailed her fingers along the paths in the dungeons. And there, near Professor Snape's private quarters, she found Draco's name alongside the Professor's. So they had been talking. But what exactly did that mean?

* * *

Hermione sunk deeper into the frothy bubbles that enveloped her and tried to empty her mind. Being a Prefect certainly had its benefits, and this bathroom was one of them. The soothing scents of lavender and vanilla surrounded her in the luxurious setting. Tonight she needed the reprieve more than usual. Despite an intense week of lessons which should have dominated her attention, she had spent countless nights tossing and turning and thinking about Draco, about Harry, about everything. Draco had made no effort to contact her after his encounter with Harry. That alone would bother her, but in addition to Professor Snape's discovery and the meeting she knew they'd had… well she really needed to talk to Draco. She dropped her head back and sighed. What did this all mean? Was it a positive turning point? Someone knew now, someone who could help him. And yet with the secret out, the judgement was sure to come. Instead of relief, she felt wary and exposed.

"Fancy meeting you here, Granger." Hermione shrieked and swallowed a mouthful of water. She sputtered as Draco chuckled from across the room.

Heart still rapidly pounding, Hermione pointed angrily. "That door was bolted! How did you get in here?"

Draco smirked. "I have my ways Granger. You of all people should know that there are many hidden nooks and crannies in this old place. All sorts of hidden passagways." He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Trying to be discrete, Hermione moved to the edge of the tub, attempting to regain some modesty. Yes, he had already seen her entirely exposed, but this felt different. Instead of feeling tranquil, Hermione felt like the lights were glaring and the bubbles were transparent.

"Do you make a habit of this? Waiting around to pounce on unsuspecting females in the bath? That's disturbing Draco," Hermione glared at him as she tried to see where she had placed her robe. Draco rolled his eyes and sauntered towards her. He crouched by the tub, placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped her face to look at him. Hermione glared, lips pursed.

"You're the only female I like to pounce on, as you well know." He brushed her lips with a kiss before straightening.

Hermione smiled a little, but wasn't deterred. "You haven't answered my question. How did you know it wasn't someone else in here? And how did you get in?"

Draco sighed dramatically. "Is there no mystery left between us Hermione?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow expectantly. Draco sank down to the floor and let his legs sprawl out in front of him.

"Behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered. It's been used for years for lovers to meet in secret. At least, Slytherins have been using it."

Hermione's lips quirked. "How convenient."

"Isn't though? I should have thought of using it sooner." Draco's eyes sparkled mischevously. "And I saw you turn down the corridor. Not a far stretch to figure out where you were headed."

"We need to talk Draco." There was no use pretending otherwise.

"A man's favourite words to be sure. I knew you would want to." Draco frowned, but leapt back to his feet. He eyed her bubble-shielded form in the bath. "So will I be joining you or will you be joining me?" His tone was suggestive, but without waiting for a reply, he grabbed her robe off the hook and held it open for her.

Hermione hesitated and felt the urge to live in the moment. They had this time together and they should make the most of it while they could. Kicking off the wall of the large tub, she moved away from the edge.

"You could join me." Draco turned his gaze on her, surprised pleasure darkening them. Hermione averted her eyes as she heard the rustle of fabric and the following splash.

"You can look you know. You've seen all this before." His words tickled her ear as he neared her.

"We still need to talk, you know." Hermione leant into him, enjoying the buzz of his close proximity. He moved her damp hair away from her neck and pressed a kiss to her nape.

"And we will. I couldn't resist seeing you a moment longer." She turned in his arms and his lips insistently pressed at her own. Nibbling, teasing, distracting. And Draco could admit he wanted to distract her. Because he didn't want to disappoint her. He wanted to soothe the tired lines around her eyes that he had seen over the past few days. He wanted to ease the troubling thoughts that kept her up at night. All he had was more trouble, more pain. But he could do this. He could seduce, arouse, touch, tease and play until every dark thought was overcome by pleasure.

Hermione, however, wasn't easily deterred. She broke away, breathless, and practically lapped the tub in her haste. Draco let out a growl as he watched her distance herself from him.

"Talk first." She instructed. He could see the flush of her skin, her lips red from his attention and knew that after a few more minutes, she could be thoroughly ensconced his arms where he wanted her. But she wanted answers and he would not deny her.

"About anything in particular?" He asked lightly, leaning against the edge of the tub. What was he to tell her? How much did she suspect? Was this about Snape? About Potter?

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "You've been meeting with Professor Snape. We've barely even talked about that night, let alone anything that has happened between the two of you since."

Draco ran an hand through his hair. What to tell her? "We've talked mostly. That's it." Hermione was unconsciously inching towards him.

"About?"

Draco turned from her, staring at the walls beyond them. "About that night. About our lessons in Occlumency. About the war."

Hermione frowned as she moved closer. "Is he going to help you Draco? With your mother?"

Draco stiffened. "There's nothing he can do for my mother." Draco had to do it all or face the consequences. He felt Hermione's hands on his back, soothing, comforting.

"I thought…" Hermione whispered, unwilling to believe that someone in the Order wouldn't help with this. Draco turned to her.

"I don't want to talk about her anymore, alright?" Hermione nodded, a little hurt, but trying to be understanding of his pain. They were silent a moment as she worried about why Snape wouldn't help Draco save the person he loved.

Finally, she asked the question she needed to hear the answer to most. "And what of us? What has he said about that revelation?"

"What you'd expect him to say." Draco's voice was hard and cold and Hermione turned away from him. Hurting now because she had been disappointed by someone she trusted, Draco went to her, pulled her close against him. "He doesn't exactly approve." He tried to make it sound light, but the words were stilted, curt.

"He's not going to help us, is he?" she aked quietly. Draco stilled behind her, then tightened his hold.

"No." _Not in the way you want_. Snape was helping him, yes, but that knowledge wouldn't do Hermione any good.

He let his fingers trace over her skin, over her arm until he reached her hand. Entwining their fingers, he pulled her pack to him, pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

Hermione looked despairingly at his hand holding hers. No one would ever understand. She pulled his arm around her waist and sighed as his lips trailed along her skin.

"He thinks this is madness," Hermione surmised, her voice soft and knowing. Draco's breath tickled her ear.

"Isn't it though?" He nibbled her earlobe, kissed her jaw and oh so slowly she turned in his arms.

She stared thoughtfully into his darkened grey eyes. Storm clouds. She slid her arms around his neck, absently playing with the ends of his hair. She kissed him. Soft, gentle, teasing. Desperate, wanting, urgent.

"Utter madness."

* * *

They dressed quietly, eyes averted, tension simmering. In these moments, time came to a standstill. But eventually they would leave their cocoon, enter the real world, and have all their troubles crashing into them.

Hermione leaned against the vanity, eyes troubled. He didn't look away as he finished the buttons on his robes. The beautiful buzz of their afterglow wasn't enough to keep her from speaking, not now.

"We need a plan."

"For what exactly?" Draco hated this. Hated having these moments of perfection ruined by all the bad in his world. It was exhausting, frustrating, unfair. He wanted to run from it all. Though he doubted Hermione would consider that a viable "plan".

Hermione began to twist her hair into a knot and he watched mesmerized by her elegant movements. How had he ever hated Muggleborns, people like her? Had he even really truly understood that emotion until now? Because he could honestly say he _hated_ anyone that would try and keep them apart.

"A plan for us. Telling Snape was a mistake, I see that know." She gave up on her hair and moved closer to him. "I can't fully regret it, after all he saved you. But perhaps I should have behaved more cautiously with him."

Draco shook his head. This was his mess, not hers. His mess. All of it. And all that was to come.

"And that latest incident with Harry…" Hermione sighed. "Let's just say that I've had some time to think about it. If telling Snape was a mistake, telling Harry would be a catastrophe."

"But you don't want to lie to your friends anymore. I understand that." He didn't, but he wanted to.

Hermione eyed him warily. "I don't want to. But I will."

"Hermione, you can't-" His protests were met with her hand across his mouth.

"This isn't simply about us, although I won't deny that I want to keep you in my life. I love Harry, but where you're concerned he refuses to behave rationally. I'd rather have him angry with me later, once we've gotten through all this, than have him angry at me now and possibly endanger himself and the Wizarding World."

An unpleasant feeling sank into his stomach. It felt uncomfortably like guilt. "You think he would take it that badly?"

Hermione thought of his gulf with Ron in fourth year. Yes, he would take it _very_ badly. And she cared for her friends too much to let this come between them now. It was too dangerous. Possibly life-threatening. They needed each other now more than ever. Instead of revealing all this, she kissed Draco soundly.

"I won't let anyone tell me who I can love."


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione gazed out at the slowly darkening sky, braced against the rail, the breeze ruffling her hair. Her fear of falling, her fear of heights had somehow been overshadowed by the other dark thoughts and fears that she couldn't shake away. Each day she was torn between trying _not_ to think about it and needing to think about it. Needing to find a solution that always just seemed out of grasp. What if she lost him? What if at the end of this year he went home and never came back? Could she convince him to stay? And to what end? Harry would never trust him, Professor Snape wouldn't help him, and she doubted that even Professor Dumbledore could save him. Hermione let out a shakey breath and willed herself to believe that she could.

Hermiome strained to listen closely until she could hear the shouts from the Quidditch pitch. Gryffindor practice was still on then. She would not be discovered here as long as it ran. But their calls were often masked by the soft music playing below. Something on the Wizard Wireless perhaps. Lulling and romantic, it soothed her dark thoughts. She wanted him. Wanted him here, wrapped around her, swaying, forgetting… just being.

She lived for those moments, those hidden moments where the stress disappeared and she was happy.

"We have to stop meeting like this Granger."

She didn't turn around to face him, but she smiled. A slow satisfied smile. He had come to stand directly behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, just as she'd wished for a moment ago. She'd never thought of herself as a particularly passionate person, but Draco brought out this unexpected desire in her. She craved it. Was it the emotions that heightened the desire or did the desire heighten her emotions? Did she even care?

"Are you reading minds now? I was hoping you'd come." If only wishing could make things so.

His mouth curved against her skin. "I don't know whether that's flattering or insulting." He nuzzled her behind her ear, bit the lobe. Hermione sighed contentedly and she leaned back into him, baring her neck in invitation.

"What do you mean?" Hermione held his hand, teased the skin on the back of it with her fingers, tracing absently. Warm skin, yet so many sparks.

"Well, I did teach you Legilimency – are you complimenting my skill at it or insulting my teaching abilities?" She felt him chuckle, but she spun around all the same. Gazed into those mischievous silver eyes.

"Insulting your teaching, naturally. We can thank my natural skill for my progress." Her eyes twinkled and she gave him a smirk to rival his own.

"Of course. You are the brightest witch of our age." Draco smirked back and dropped a hard quick kiss on her surprised mouth. Just that one touch could send a flare of heat through her, distract her from everything and anything. Almost anything.

It couldn't distract her from Draco himself. Hermione had seen the wariness in his eyes, the apprehensiveness which lined his face, despite the teasing tone of his voice. Just as she had suffered countless restless nights, it seemed that he was no better off. Hermione deepened the kiss, stroked her hands along his back, wanting to soothe, wanting to make him forget too.

He tasted perfect. He felt perfect. This was what she had needed to bury her fears away.

He pulled away for a moment, looking past her head to the grounds below.

"Is that music?"

She fiddled with his hair, relishing the physical contact yet bemused with his distraction. "Yes. The Wireless most likely. Someone else is enjoying the evening, I suppose." The sky was clear, the stars twinkled, and the winter chill had faded away.

Draco bent his head close to whisper wickedly in her ear. "Two young lovers perhaps."

"We never needed music." She smiled cheekily at him, and then moved closer to brush her lips along his jaw.

"We never _had_ any music. Maybe we should take advantage." He pulled back and Hermione frowned quizzically. He slipped a hand to her waist, and the other captured one of her own.

"Dance with me Granger." He breathed the words into her hair and Hermione's heart stuttered. They swayed, bodies pressed together. Slowly moving in tune the faint sounds below. It was intimate. Far more intimate than she expected, especially after all the other barriers they'd crossed. Hermione was nearly oblivious to everything other than Draco. The smell of him – surprisingly citrusy and a bit spicy, with a hint of leather. The feel of him - firm and warm and strong. She felt the sudden need to memorize every detail.

Draco let his hand wander from her waist to her spine and then back again. A gentle caress he was tempted to take farther. But for the moment, dancing with her would certainly do.

Draco closed his eyes and rested his chin atop her head as they moved. _I won't let anyone tell me who I can love_. He'd repeated the words like a mantra. So often in fact, that they had become seared into his mind. She loved _him_. He understood why he loved _her_ ; fierce, strong, powerful, and brilliant. He was surprised that no other wizard had realized this yet. Not that he was complaining, as he rather liked that her attentions had settled on him. That her heart had settled on his.

He didn't want to let that go. To think that there was a time when he had been expected to make a _suitable_ match. He scoffed at the idea now. There would never be anyone else. He wouldn't let there be. He knew what he wanted from her. What he needed. The words. The words that would bind them together and keep them from ever being torn apart. He just needed to be brave enough to say them.

He kept his feet moving in that steady _one two_ of the dance and tried to keep his voice steady. "What do you think about marriage?"

Hermione stumbled a bit, hand tightening in his, but she regained her posture quickly. Her blissful fog had been interrupted and it took her a moment to comprehend the question. Even then, she wasn't sure she even wanted to understand it.

"Theoretically?" she asked, a touch warily. "Or are you suggesting something?" She tried to let that last bit come off with humour but failed spectacularly. The words hung between them.

Finally Draco came to a halt and looked down at her. "I'm suggesting." His expression was so serious that Hermione felt panic and elation war within her. It was the most impractical, insane thing she'd ever heard him say. It was also the most romantic. Draco Malfoy wanted to be with _her_ and announce it to the world.

Unfortunately, panic and reason won. "Draco, you can't be serious."

He looked unfazed by her disbelief. "Why can't I?"

His unwavering expression shook her. "Well… well, for one thing, we're teenagers! We're not even legal age in the Wizarding World, so it's not even worth arguing about."

He watched her through guarded eyes. "So your issue is with our age? Not with the idea of marrying me?".

"I, I-" Hermione stammered over her words in confusion. Was that her only issue? Was she seriously not alarmed by the idea of marrying Draco Malfoy? She was still in his arms. She could still breathe him, and what she needed was air. Air to clear her thoughts from this seductive haze. She turned away from him, moving to the edge of the Tower and looked out at the night sky. She steadied herself and tried to think. The answer wasn't difficult to discover.

"No..." she answered slowly without turning back. "No, I don't have an issue with the idea of marrying you." In fact, she was quickly becoming quite fond of the idea. What would it be like? She had a feeling it would be rather wonderful. But maybe in a different time… a different place. "It doesn't change anything though."

"It would change a lot of things." He voice was behind her, but he hadn't moved closer, giving her the space she needed to think and breathe. "We'd be together. That's all I want. To be with you, always. And despite what they'd all say, there'd be nothing anyone could do. They'd have to accept it eventually." His words were coaxing, luring her down a path she wasn't sure she was ready to explore.

"And who would stop us?" he continued. "My family? Your friends? No one would know but us. You'd be mine, I'd be yours. It'd be that simple."

Hermione's heart thumped a little faster in her chest. _You'd be mine, I'd be yours_.

She shook her head again, but not as forcefully as before. "This is madness Draco. This isn't some Shakespearian drama. We're not going to end up like Romeo and Juliet, for Merlin's sake!" The similarities in their positions wasn't lost on her, but it wasn't a path she was willing to follow either. "Who are these people? And how did they end up exactly?" He was moving closer, as if sensing she was wavering. Hermione wanted to laugh, but fear gripped at her. If anything, they should serve as a cautionary tale, not a source of humour.

"They ended up dead." Hermione answered, a little too gruffly even for her ears. She turned to him, determined to stop thinking insane thoughts that couldn't be. She hadn't expected the fierceness of Draco's expression.

"Well then, it's not too much of a stretch, is it?" He countered, temper rising. "We may be young, Hermione, but we are not naïve or foolish. We fully understand what is coming, what is expected of us, what our fates may be. There is a very good chance one or both of us will end up dead by the end of this."

"Don't." Hermione warned, hand raised, heart protesting his claims. She knew it. Hadn't she practically said those very words to him, right at the beginning? But she didn't want to hear it again now.

"I don't want to think about it anymore than you do." He took her hands. "We both have targets on our backs." He paused and took a fortifying breath. "I will love you all my life Hermione. Whether that be one more day or one hundred more years. Just the thought of you is enough to anchor me in this whirlwind. Being bonded with you… that would be indescribable." Hermione stilled, heart thudding so hard she was sure he could hear it. How long had he been thinking of this? Bondings were more, so much more, traditional. More magical. The type of vow that could seal two people together for an eternity. The type of power they could generate… Hermione couldn't fathom it. She shivered.

"Draco, bondings are…" she couldn't fine the words to voice her protest. Maybe she no longer had them, she didn't know. But she knew she had to hear him out. He'd given this serious thought and the least she could was listen.

"Bondings are unconventional now, I know. For some reason, they've fallen a tad out of fashion. Probably because so many of them were patriarchal." Hermione frowned at him, but he continued. "But it's the same thing though. Still basically married. And there are some that would definitely be useful. I know of a few used during the Goblin Wars." He frowned and then turned away from her.

"What types of bonding were you thinking of Draco?" There were many she knew. But she wanted to know what he thought, how he thought bonding would solve anything, and which bond he'd her.

"Magical core bonding." He didn't even hesitate. He turned and linked their hands together. "You always know. You've heard, I'm sure, how some people say they know the moment their loved one has died or has been put in danger. We could link our cores. We'd always know."

Hermione blinked at him blindly. Was that what this was? Some failsafe to know if she died? The words stabbed at her. They weren't what she wanted to hear, and yet that should be a relief. After all, they _couldn't_ do this.

"We'd find out eventually… and even then, there'd be nothing we could do, Draco." The words came from her in a hoarse whisper. He gripped her hands so hard Hermione gasped.

"I don't want to just find out Hermione. If you ever needed me, I'd want… I'd want to be there. I'd need to be there."

Hermione nodded hesitantly in understanding, but in reality she knew that wasn't a possibility. And yet… wouldn't it be better to know? Would she spend those summer months endlessly worried about him? Would she even be able to focus on what Harry needed or would her thoughts be so otherwise engaged that she'd fail him? And then fail everyone?

"We could do it, you know." He voice was a mere whisper. "I know the spell."

Hermione stared at their enjoined hands mutely for a minute, trying to comprehend everything he had just said. This sudden onslaught of information had thrown her. She was saved a reply by the a loud crashing in the distance. They leapt apart, eyeing the door like two children caught red-handed. That sad sense of reality sank back into Hermione. Draco walked to the rail without looking at her, without pushing her for an answer. Silence reigned. They didn't speak. No other surprising sounds were heard.

"You wouldn't consider running away with me would you?" He asked as if he knew better than to bring up the previous topic. Yet he didn't know why he asked when he already knew the answer. He didn't face her, just let the words softly float back.

The question pierced her to the core. Not because she wouldn't, but because for about a second she _wanted_ to. She went to him, leant her front to his back, needing him to know that her answer wasn't because she didn't feel anything for him.

"I can't." She murmured the words against his back, wondering if that's what he'd do. If it wasn't for her, would he have run away and abandoned them all?

"I know. I don't know why I asked. It's not like I can run anyway." His laugh was short and brittle.

She closed her eyes. "I'll think of something. We'll find a solution." He switched positions and ran his hands along her arms.

"Sometimes there isn't a solution, Hermione. Only dealing with what is. You can't fix all the problems of the world." He said gently. She pursed her lips in agitation as she looked at him.

"I don't wan't to fix all the problems of the world." _Just our problems, for now_.

He pulled her back to him again, and she contentedly went. Draco had known she wouldn't run. And still that other idea taunted him, beckoned him, shone like a light at the end of the tunnel. A future with promise.

* * *

Hermione hurried along the empty corridors, grateful there were no prying eyes to see her. She was practically bouncing in excitement.

In the days following Draco's "proposal," Hermione had noticed that Draco had been even more markedly sullen. She'd known because she felt the same. She couldn't stop thinking about it, about him. She wasn't sure when it had happened exactly, but at some point he had become intricately entwined in her visions of a future. Oh it wasn't something she allowed herself very often – those fantasies where Harry triumphed and she had moved on from Hogwarts, her parents were safe, she'd found the perfect career, and perhaps there was a husband who loved her madly waiting for her at the end of it all. She had thought for some time that the vague shadow would be a certain redhead. But it was funny, now that she had Draco, that figure wasn't vague anymore.

Not that Hermione would allow these fantasies of her future to define her actions. There were still far too many other factors at play.

The proposal had, however, prompted her to revisit one of her many plans to help save Draco. And his mother. That had been the most troubling part of her plans – getting to Narcissa Malfoy was never going to be an easy task. But now, perhaps, there was an opportunity.

She looked around cautiously before hurrying into the Room of Requirement. Her heart jumped at the site of him. She'd wondered for a moment if he'd show up. It had taken ages to even get a message to him, but she wanted to see him. To explain everything.

"Draco." It was one word. All she'd said was one word and it was enough to push him over the edge. Just his name coming from her lips. He was at her side in an instant. No words. Just his mouth fiercely demanding her own. He sucked, nibbled, licked. Tasted her, his own sweet drug. It's not that it had been too long. It was the way they had left things, so uncertain, so negative. He didn't want that for her.

Hermione pulled him closer, pressing herself firmly against him. It was good. Too good. It would be so easy to lose herself in him, but they had to talk.

Letting out a shuddery moan, she pulled her lips away. "Draco," she tried again, but his lips had started a determined journey along the side of her neck.

She half-laughed, half-cried as she pushed at his chest to get his attention. He finally stopped his ardourous kisses, burying his face in her hair.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. He'd probably be apologizing forever, if things continued as they were, but hell, he'd take it if she'd have him.

Hermione pulled back in surprise, "Whatever for?"

Draco sighed as he looked into her trusting gaze. "Everything, I suppose."

"Oh Draco, don't be so melancholy. Not right now. Not when I finally have an idea!" Hermione's enthusiasm had returned. She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch in the small, cosy room. She turned to him, eyes alit with excitement.

"I think I've figured out a way to help your mother."

Draco hissed out his breath. His heart picked up pace, fear icing his veins. "Hermione, you are not going anywhere _near_ my mother, you understand me? It is far too dangerous! I won't let you risk yourself, not like that, not for her. Not for me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let's ignore the part where you think you can tell me what risks I can take, for the moment. I'm not an idiot Draco."

Draco grit his teeth, still fearful. "Hermione—" She held a hand to his mouth.

"Will you please simply listen?" His heart twitched as he noticed her eyes becoming markedly dimmer. He had done that. He had already put a damper on her happiness. He didn't want to do that. Not now. Not when he'd be causing so much pain later. He nodded silently. She smiled again and his heart returned to its normal rhythm.

"Good. Now, as I was saying, I think I've figured out a way we can help your mother, and in doing so, help you." Hermione pulled a rusty looking key from her robes. "You see this key? It will be the key to solving our problems." Hermione laughed at her little joke. "It's the key to my late grandmother's cottage. She left the cottage to me. I was her only grandchild, you see."

Draco had a bad idea he knew where this was going. "Hermione, we couldn't possibly…"

Hermione huffed. "Of course you could. And it's not like I'm suggesting you just take the key and go there. That's far too simple and you'd be far too likely to get caught. No, you still need to get your mother out of Malfoy Manor. That's why I charmed it."

Taking Draco's hand, Hermione pressed the key into his palm. "I've made it into a Portkey."

Draco felt that uncomfortable feeling again, gnawing at him as she spoke. "When's it timed for?" He didn't know why he asked. It's not like he could _use_ it.

Hermione smirked in satisfaction. "That was the tricky part. It would be took risky to have the Portkey set with a time. I had to fiddle with the _Portus_ charm a bit. It will take you to the cottage with a code word. When the time comes, when you have your mother with you, you say _Adimo portus_."

His heart stuttered. She had done all this for his mother? For him? He shouldn't be surprised, but he was. Over and over again, she had proved how much she cared for him. He couldn't accept it. Draco went to push the key back into her hand.

"Hermione, even if we could, it just… it just wouldn't work," he finished lamely. Hermione pursed her lips in agitation and pushed the key back at him.

"Of course it will. Now, the cottage is in a quiet muggle area, so you wouldn't be able to use magic, but I think you could manage a few months if I stocked the space sufficiently." _And provide detailed lists of instructions_ , Hermione added silently to herself. "It's a risk, of course, but I knew it would be. Which is why I didn't mention it until now. Not until I worked out the other precautions." Hermione paused and took a breath, her face excited again. "We'd need to ward the cottage of course for your protection. I thought of a Fidelius Charm, but it would be unwise for one of us to be the Secret Keeper and I can't trust anyone else with this."

Hermione braced herself, turned to Draco and took his hands in hers.

"But when you asked me… the other night when you mentioned marriage and bonding, I realized there was another solution. Magical core wards. No one would expect it, they are so rare, and if we combine them with blood wards, well, we could practically make your location unplottable. I could set them once I leave Hogwarts. And then you'd be able to access the cottage. Only you, and whomever you permitted, which would naturally be your mother. There are details to work out, but the point of the matter is… yes, Draco, I will marry you."


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione roughly jotted down another note and grit her teeth. She could feel Harry and Ron sending each other little coded messages as they looked over head. She'd been in this terrible mood for days. Not that they would ask why, they were often too frightened of her when she was like this. She couldn't confide in them anyway, even if they did ask. Her quill snapped at her train of thought. That had been the third one this morning.

"Um, here Hermione," Harry tentatively handed her a new one. Hermione sighed. She couldn't be near them right now. Not when her heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces. Not when she wanted to break a certain blonde haired Slytherin into a million pieces.

She took the quill from Harry and offered him a shaky smile. "I'm in no mood to be around people, honestly. I think I'll just go and study on my own for a bit." She began to gather her things, a jumbled mess of half-written notes, papers, and books. The boys exchanged another guarded glance.

"If that's what you want. But, Hermione, if you want to talk…" Harry offered, but Hermione could see the apprehension in his expression. At the same time, she _wished_ she could talk to someone. Anyone. But not about this. Never about this. "It's nothing Harry. Just… nothing. Nothing I want to talk about." Harry, the master of keeping things hidden inside, nodded in understanding. Ron opened his mouth like he wanted to say something sympathetic too, but it just gaped for a moment before closing. He was still with Lavender, though their relationship seemed to be disintegrating day by day. Her clinginess was too much for him to bear. A few months ago, Hermione would have been elated by that. Not anymore. Not since Draco.

Arms full, she fled the suffocating Gryffindor Common Room. She walked stiffly through the halls, the agitation simply pouring from her. _He'd said no_. As if her answer had been a question. As if when she agreed to marry him, to bond with him, she'd been asking. He'd done the asking. And then, in true Malfoy fashion, he'd gone and made a mess of things. Had made some sort of lame excuse. Naturally they'd quarreled.

" _Not like this."_ he'd said. _"Not with you as some sort of martyr sacrificing yourself for the greater good for those who've done nothing for you."_ She'd been mute in her surprise, and he'd taken advantage of her silence to escape. But now, after a few days to think on it, Hermione was no longer surprised. She'd dissected that statement of his to bits. Her, a martyr? He thought she was marrying him for the"greater good"? How could he not see that everything she'd done, she'd done for _him_. She huffed angrily and two first-years glanced at her wide-eyed. She ignored them as she continued on her way. No wonder she couldn't focus, couldn't think clearly…

She stilled a moment and looked around her. Somehow she'd managed to get to the seventh floor instead of the library. She'd let her absent thoughts direct her feet. She could hear the steady tread of footsteps. Of someone pacing back and forth. She knew that sound. She turned the hallway just in time to see the Room appear and a blonde head about to disappear inside it. She bolted. Her feet scrambled and she practically fell in on top of him in her haste.

An unbecoming _oof_ came from her lips as she crashed into him. Hermione watched as his eyes widened in recognition and for a moment, she thought she saw fear. It was gone in a flash though, replaced by apprehension.

"Hermione, now is really not a good time…" Draco backed away awkwardly.

Hermione pursed her lips in agitation. "It's as a good a time as any Draco Malfoy…" Her words drifted off as she finally registered her surroundings. This wasn't the Room of Requirement… well not as they used it. Books and shelves, cauldrons and brooms, an assortment of abandoned objects surrounded her.

Draco watched the expression flicker across her face and felt his heart squeeze so tightly he couldn't breathe. Not _her._ Not _here_. He looked down and gently kicked at an empty sherry bottle on the floor. It rattled but didn't fall.

"It's the Room of Hidden Things," he explained lamely. Hermione gingerly placed her books on a nearby table and watched him curiously.

"Why are you here?" Never once had he mentioned this room to her. After all these months…

"It's… well it's interesting, isn't it? All these old books, and forgotten things…" he picked up a dusty tome and blew on it. It was part of the truth anyway, he told himself. When he had first found this room, he _had_ found it interesting. All these lost magical objects, collected over the years, forgotten by their owners. It didn't matter that is now housed the source of his despair.

Hermione trailed her fingers across the cover of the book he held. "I can understand your curiousity, but really Draco, it's dangerous." She crossed arms. This was something Harry and Ron would do – just like Harry and that ill-begotten potions book.

 _More dangerous than you know_ , Draco thought. But still, he said nothing.

Draco had spent the last few days calling himself all kinds of an idiot. She had said _yes_. But he couldn't go through with it. She had sat there detailing plans of how their bond would help his mother and his stomach sank. At one time, that sacrifice, that desire to help him would have touched him in more ways than she could imagine. But no longer. Not if it meant she was committing herself to him only to _help_ him. He couldn't bear that, not with what he had to do. Not that he didn't regret his departure after their last meeting. He'd been regretting it for days. He wanted her more than he wanted anything. Needed her even more. But unless she wanted him in the same way, well he couldn't agree to go through with it.

Hermione sighed, deciding it best to leave the topic of unknown magical items alone. For now. Because she had a much bigger bone to pick with the Malfoy heir. "When a woman accepts a proposal, Draco Malfoy, she does not expect for the man she's agreed to marry to rescind the offer! What is wrong with you?" She yanked away the book he was holding and thumped it angrily onto a table.

"Do you honestly believe I would have agreed to all of this _simply to save your mother_?" She spun back to him. "She matters because _you_ matter. It's your happiness I was concerned about. And I said yes because I love you, if you haven't figured that out yet. Do you think I would agree to do something so important, so powerful, if I didn't?"

Draco watched Hermione snap at him, and it felt like sunshine. She meant the angry words, he knew, but all he could see was her passion for him. He knew he didn't deserve her. But if she wanted him. Truly wanted him, and just him, as he was now… well even he wouldn't be foolish enough to turn her down a second time.

"So if I asked you again?" he moved slowly towards her, arms encircling low on her waist. She fit perfectly into his hands, as always.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You don't get to ask again. You asked. I said yes. That's all there is to it." He bent down to nuzzle her neck. "You really are a fool, Draco Malfoy."

"When it comes to you, I am." He admitted with a smile against her skin. This was probably the most selfish thing he would ever do. Draco knew he wasn't a good man, but she was quickly becoming the best part of him. He couldn't let that go. "What do we do now?"

"Honestly," she stepped back so that she could look at him properly. "The bonding of course. We'll decide on which one, discuss the spell, and make our vows." Hermione ticked off the words in an orderly fashion.

"No discussion of venue? Flowers? Attendants?" Draco teased, but felt a little guilty. As if he were robbing her of something. He didn't mind one bit that his family wouldn't be with him, not the family that would sooner scorn her than welcome her. But, Hermione, she may feel differently about the matter.

Hermione scoffed. "Yes, shall we host it in the Slytherin Common Room or Gryffindor's?"

Draco sobered. "In all seriousness, Hermione, if we are going to do this, isn't there anything… well special, you'd like to mark the occasion with?"

Hermione's eyes lowered as she tried to control her emotions. "I never was the type to give in to flights of fancy about my wedding day. But I suppose, I always assumed that I'd just do the usual to do. The dress. The cake. Mostly, I expected my parents would be there." She turned away and let out a deep breath. She'd miss that, she realized. She'd miss having that memory with them. Not that they'd have those memories when she was through…

Draco saw her pain and hurt for her. Everything in him shouted at him not to speak, and yet… "Did you want to wait? Perhaps we could find a way, in the summer maybe…" He knew his words were lies. That if they didn't do this now, they'd never have another chance. _He'd_ never have another chance.

Hermione shook her head and swallowed back her distress. Her parents, they would be concerned about their youth, their haste, their previous animosity. The would never understand, not without Hermione explaining everything. Not without divulging the dire straits of the Wizarding World. And then, then they'd want to protect her and keep her from coming back.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "That wouldn't work. And I don't… I don't want to spend my time with them arguing."

Draco understood her unsaid words. Her time _left_ with them. She had only alluded to her plans, never disclosed everything, but he suspected it would most likely separate them from her for the foreseeable future. He so badly wanted to comfort her, but knew no words could soften the blow that was to come.

Hermione took a solidifying breath. "We'll do it now."

Panic and elation warred with Draco. "Now? I thought, perhaps you'd want to research, we can discuss, compare bonds, and then decide…" He knew most of the bonds. But did she? Did she realize the depth of the commitment she was making?

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "You know how difficult it is for us to find each other without being caught. And exams are coming, I've already been drafting my study schedule, and there is simply not enough time."

"Very romantic. Perhaps we could squeeze it in before Arithmancy," Draco said scathingly. As if their vows were some chore to be done.

"Don't be snide with me Draco." Hermione perched on the edge of the table that held her books. "None of this is conventional, but then, we aren't conventional either. Dim lights and soft music aren't necessary. What we need is each other and time. We have both at the moment."

Draco reluctantly conceded. He was being unnecessarily stubborn, he knew. "And the bond? Which one shall we do then?"

Hermione smiled in satisfaction. "The magical core bond. I didn't bother researching the others too much, as you're right, that is the most suitable for us."

Draco staggered for a moment. "You've researched it already?"

Hermione huffed. "Of course I did. Did you honestly believe that I came to you last week without having done so? I've also looked into the corresponding magical contracts. Together, those should be sufficient for our purposes. Efficient and simple."

Hermione had found the simplicity of the bonds rather odd to be honest. But then she'd remembered the Unbreakable Vow. It was the conviction behind the words that mattered most. One didn't need a complicated spell to make the magic strong. And the strong magical core bonds came from the strength of feeling. That was something they most certainly had. The deeper and stronger the emotions, the deeper the bond. Considering the power of the two involved… well Hermione suspected that Draco would be right. The power of their bonding would be indescribable.

Hermione smiled at him again. "I'll be yours and you'll be mine, remember?"

Draco stared at her, elation winning over any doubt, any fear. His beautiful and brilliant witch. "I remember."

If he did nothing else in this life, at least he did this. He'd had the love of this remarkable witch, and had been smart enough to make her his, if only for a short time. "I suppose you should take my hand then."

He reached for her. An offer of everything he had left to give.

"I suppose I should."

* * *

A/N: To all my readers, I'm sorry for the delay in this chapter. I have not abandoned this story! In addition to other things, I found this chapter particularly difficult to write. Thank you all for the reviews, favourites, and follows and for sticking with this fic!


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione stumbled through the halls, barely conscious of the looks, the glances, the whispers. She wanted to stop them all. Silence the world around her until it made sense again. Was it possible? Was it possible that her world could crumble so quickly, her foundation be shaken to severely? For once she'd felt that flicker of hope, the hope that there would be something after this war was over. Now chaos reigned. There was a churning storm within, swirling, confusing, and overwhelming her.

 _You look quite charming when you're annoyed._

She, who had always been so sure, had now made the most greivous of errors. And she seemed to keep making them. When Harry had given her the Felix Felicis, she'd so desperately wanted him to take it back, knowing the kind of danger he'd be in. _Of course_ they wouldn't need it. How lucky they'd been. She should have listened. She should have seen, should have known.

Grief, guilt, and betrayal warred within her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't stand to listen to another word.

"Snape killed Dumbledore." The words echoed around her, unending. "And Malfoy, he let them in." The voices rolled over her, crashing into her ears. She escaped into the girl's lavatory, needing a least a minute of silence. A minute to try and comprehend.

 _I want you closer all the does being with you have to feel so good?_

What was it Harry had said? The words had pierced her, shocked her into an uncomprehending silence. Emotions had reigned and she'd barely processed his account of the actions in the Astronomy Tower. _Their_ tower. Vanishing cabinets? In the Room of Requirement? _Their_ room. All this time he was there for _them_ , not for her. Never for her. Could she have been so deceived?

Every word a lie. Every memory a façade. A way to shield her eyes from the truth. Just as he'd taught her with Occlumency – misdirection. She could see it all now. Every little misstep, every hint that should have forewarned her. His secret meetings with Professor Snape. His constant use of the Room of Requirement. The fact that he'd _never_ told her about the Room of Hidden Things. She was blind. And Harry, Harry had been right all along. She gripped at the the edges of the sink before her. He'd never forgive her.

 _You're so beautiful, you know that?_

"Hermione? Are you in here?" Ginny's voice drifted in. Hermione fled. The door to the stall swung firmly shut and Hermione sagged against it. The tears streaked her face and her body shook from her resistance to her grief and anger. No one could see her. No one could hear her. No one could _know._

"Are you all right in there?" Ginny's feet were visible just outside the door. Hermione shook her head, knowing the red-haired witch couldn't see her.

"I'm fine. I just…" Hermione heard the quaver in her own voice and swallowed it back, "I just need a minute." She pressed a fist to her mouth to muffle the silent sobs that shook her.

"I know what you mean." Hermione heard a gently thump and knew that Ginny had rested her head against the other side of the door. "It's a lot to take in, yeah?"

Hermione couldn't hold back and let out a shuddery breath. "That traitorous snake." The venemous words bled from her.

 _That's all I want. To be with you, always._

"I know. It must be a shock for you, especially with Harry and Ron hating him all this time. But the entire Order trusted him, Hermione. Dumbledore most of all. I bet he never believed that Snape would kill him."

Right. Snape. Of course. The murderer. The ultimate betrayal to the Light Side. Just not the betrayal that consumed her at the moment. That was Draco. The orchestrator of all this destruction. Draco, the betrayer. Her enemy. Her _husband_. Her stomach rolled and Hermione leaned forward. But nothing came. She was hollow. Empty.

"It's just that… well Harry's asking for you," Ginny explained softly. "And Hermione, he needs us now. More than ever."

Ginny's words hit her like a splash of cold water. Ginny was here, for Harry, while her brother lay in the Hospital Wing and no one knew what would become of him. She could be stronger than this. Hermione nodded vehemently. Harry needed her. If they were to survive this, if they were to succeed, they needed to stick together. She needed to help him in any way she could.

"Hermione?" Ginny questioned and Hermione realized that the young witch couldn't see her nod.

"Of course Ginny. I will be there soon, I promise. Let him know I'll be right out." There was a moment's hesitation before Ginny's steps retreated from the lavatory. The guilt still lingered. How could she face them all?

 _You'd be mine. I'd be yours. It'd be that simple._

Hermione fumbled with her robes, pulling out the small locket hidden there. Her grandmother's locket. She flicked it open. There beside the picture of her grandparent's on their wedding day was the tiniest folded piece of paper. She placed it in the palm of her hand and placed the tip of her wand to it.

" _Finite."_ The paper expanded then, flipping open side by side until it resumed it's normal size. She tapped it again with her wand. Gentle swirls now appeared on the seemingly blank paper. Words of promise, intent. Sacred vows. The contract that binded them, the magic that wove them together. She blinked hard as she looked at the broken words before her. The words that he'd said with such promise and conviction. The words that she'd vowed with each beat of her heart. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the press of his lips, the heat, that spark of magic that sealed them together. And there inscribed on this parchment, the tangible proof of her folly.

 _I will love you all my life._

" _Incendio_ " she whispered. The page caught flame, tindrils of smoke rising. And Hermione watched her love burn to ash.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione pressed a hand to her forehead as she sank into the kitchen chair. It was done. Her parents were gone. In their place stood Wendell and Monica Wilkins, who were now on their way home to Australia after a short holiday in England. At least, that's what they would believe. She wondered again if she'd done the right thing, removing their memories like that. They may never forgive her for violating their trust so greatly. That was _if_ she could undo the damage.

She wanted to believe that she could. Wanted to believe that someday, they'd be reunited again as a family. Tears pricked her eyes as she looked over her now empty home. She would have to leave soon, before nightfall. She'd arrive at the Burrow in the early evening, but the thought of the loving family there did nothing to cheer her.

For a moment, Hermione allowed herself to wallow. The hollowness she'd resisted for so long was creeping back into her heart. Hermione had pressed it down, determined to enjoy these last few weeks with her parents. But now that they were gone, her heart broke open all over again. For them. For herself. She'd always been a bit of an oddity, on the edges of social engagements. But never had she truly felt _alone_. Until now. No parents to comfort her. And she couldn't confide in her friends. She had to bear her burden alone.

She rose and went to her untouched cup of tea on the counter. She might as well enjoy the silence while she could. The Burrow, though lovely, was rarely quiet, with someone or other bustling about. She usually enjoyed the liveliness, but she realized now that she'd miss the quiet peacefulness of her home even more than usual. Now that she didn't have it to return to.

Just as her hand touched the cup, Hermione felt it. That sense of awareness, like when someone is watching you from across the room. She spun, wand drawn. There was no one there. She knew her wards hadn't broken, she'd have felt it. All the same, she checked the rooms, reinforced the wards. Perhaps it was her own guilt pricking at her. Making her more wary of betrayal. For hadn't she too betrayed Harry with her silence? She glanced at the clock. There was no time for a leisurely cup now. Heart sore, she gulped her now lukewarm tea. She didn't taste it before it was too late. That tangy flavour that most certainly was not her Earl Grey. She teetered, the cup fell from her hand as she reached for the table. The room swam before her and then she was falling but she never hit the ground.

Strong familiar arms cushioned her fall. And the last sight she saw was silver eyes. Then the world went black.

* * *

He had set up the tent and checked the wards twice and still Hermione slept. Draco couldn't focus on anything else. Only her. He looked at her furrowed brow, her tangled hair and his heart constricted. Just being near her the past few days had been both heaven and hell. He'd _missed_ her.

His memories of their time together should have been enough. Having her, if even for a short while, was better than not having her at all. Those memories had soothed his tortured soul on more than one occasion. Because at least for a moment, this incredible witch had loved him.

It should have been enough. It wasn't.

He wasn't sure if she'd listen. He doubted she'd understand. He hadn't _planned_ on any of this. Snape had said… well he had said he'd help him. And he did in the end. Just not in the way Draco had expected. And it certainly didn't help that Aunt Bellatrix had arrived with more than a few other Death Eaters. She was supposed to come alone that night. Would any of it matter? Draco doubted it.

He had planned to leave it all alone. To leave her hating him, so that she could go on and fulfill her part in this war. But the days turned into weeks, the Dark Lord was getting stronger, and Draco spent countless hours imagining what would happen to her. Seeing her face on the victims of those who opposed the Dark Lord. Knowing what they did to Muggles and Muggleborns, it wasn't hard to imagine. He was a mess. He couldn't control his emotions. And that was the most dire risk of all – the risk of exposure. He'd had to get out. And he knew he needed to go to her.

Hermione began to stir and he moved forward slightly. He had no reassuring words for her, and he realized that perhaps he should have spent this time figuring out what to say when she finally saw him again.

She opened her eyes slowly. It didn't take long for her to recall everything that had happened. She was just oh so tired and in a state of disbelief. How could she have been so foolish? Where was that constant vigilance that had been drilled into her? She blinked and saw Draco looming above her, watching with wary and apprehensive eyes that flickered with relief as she came awake. How he could sit there so calmly after everything he'd done, she had no idea. She wanted to throttle him. Only fear of discovery kept her still.

"What have you done?" she murmured to him. Her voice was hoarse from lack of use, but the anxiety still came through.

He moved as if startled by the question. Instead of answering her, he rose from his seat.

"You must be thirsty, let me get you some water." He moved away and Hermione watched him incredulously. She bolted right up in the bed she was in - no, a cot she realized. She quickly took in her surroundings and determined they were in a tent. Not the Manor then… what was he up to? Did it even matter. She couldn't... she wouldn't trust him again. She couldn't _stay_ here, she needed to get away. His back was to her and she saw her chance. She tried to quietly untangle herself. If he heard her, he didn't show it. And she ran. Ran to the flap of the tent, and slammed into an invisible wall. Wards. He'd put up wards of course. To keep others out and evidently to keep her in. She was done being his pawn. She reached down only to suddenly realize that she _didn't have her wand_. He'd taken her wand. How dare he?

She whipped around to find him watching her. She flinched at the sight. A look of resigned disappointment had crossed his face, as if he expected her to flee but had hoped she wouldn't. Gods _it hurt_. It hurt to look at those silver eyes that had twinkled mischievously at her, at that grimly set mouth that had set her aflame. And she noticed. She noticed the lines that marred his face. She noticed that his complexion, usually pale, was now sallow. She noticed the circles under his eyes. And because she noticed, and because she _didn't want to_ notice, she snapped.

"My wand, Draco." She growled at him. He didn't move. He stood there silent and somber and Hermione _hated_ him. Oh how she wanted to hate him.

"I can't Hermione." It was too much. It was all too much. She didn't know how he could stand there calmly when everything inside her was boiling to the surface.

"You _can't_!" Hermione's voice bordered on hysterical. She advanced on him, pushed at his shoulders. "You _will_ give me my wand Draco. Give it to me." She pushed him again. He didn't move and Hermione couldn't bear it. Every emotion she'd been supressing unleased itself on the source of her pain. She tore at him. Shoving, poking, ripping at his robes, trying to find that stolen piece of her. Whether it was her heart or her wand, it became unclear. All she knew was that she needed him to hurt him as he hurt her. So she punched and shoved and yelled and he still stood there. Taking every lash.

And when she stopped, she was still quaking. What had happened to her?

She backed away slowly, looking at the object of her destruction in mortification. His robes were torn, there were red marks on his forearms – all caused by her.

She had nowhere to run. Her eyes looked wildly around the tent, for any sort of escape. There was none. She backed herself into the edge of the tent and sank to the ground. She was trapped.

* * *

They hadn't said a word. Hermione had stared blindly ahead trying to absorb everything around her. Trying to think of a plan. But it was hard to think with him so close. Draco divided his time between looking over some papers on the table and stirring something on the stove – something she hated to admit smelled heavenly. When had she last eaten? It had been before she'd cast the memory charm on her parents… but she hadn't had much of an appetite before then.

He didn't try and talk to her. Didn't try and coerce her into talking to him. As if he knew her well enough to know she needed her space. That stung. The thought that he might know her at all when evidently she didn't know him. She didn't know him at all.

He still didn't say a word as he set the bowls of steaming soup on the table. Hers was on the far side, not close to his. She resented that as well.

She waited a full minute before approaching the table. After she watched him take his first mouthful, she rose. It wouldn't do to starve herself.

She sat and almost moaned at her first taste. She didn't know he could cook. She willed herself to eat slowly and tried to discretely look at at papers he'd been looking at with such attention.

"They're maps." He didn't look at her as he spoke.

"I can see that," Hermione snipped. What she couldn't see was where they were maps of. She let her spoon clatter into her empty bowl. "What is this Draco? What are you after?"

"Not now." He sighed as he rose. He moved to take her bowl and Hermione's hand shot out to stop him. She grasped his wrist and let go just as quickly. Skin to skin contact was not to be permitted apparently. Her brain might see him as a traitorous snake, but her body and her heart seemed to see him differently.

She steadied her breath and tried again. "People are expecting me Draco." It wasn't a lie. The Weasleys were expecting her. She'd sent the owl just after sending off her parents. They'd be terribly worried, with no idea of who had taken her, because they didn't know of her history with Draco. She bit at her bottom lip.

"No they're not." He turned away from her as he took the bowls to the sink. "I intercepted your owl. As far as – well I expect it was the Weasleys, though you didn't address them by name – are concerned, you have gone with your parents because you couldn't risk abandoning them."

Hermione blinked at him mutely, the rage returning. He continued with his back still to her. "They should really consider getting a new one you know. It was entirely too easy to cast a Confundus charm on that owl."

"Why?" she murmured. She still didn't understand. If this wasn't a trap, wasn't a way for Harry to come after, then what were Draco's intentions? "Why would you do such a thing?" He leaned against the small sink.

"So that they won't come looking for you." He answered simply. She'd had enough. She reached forward and snatched the maps from the far end of the table. He didn't move to stop her.

She shuffled through them. "Chile, Japan, Canada, New Zealand…" she shook her head in confusion.

"If you'd like, you can take your pick. I'm not too particular. As long as it's a far way from here." He'd come over to the table now, mistakenly thinking that she was coming around to his way of thinking. That she'd finally understood.

"You can't be serious." She dropped the maps and looked up at him in bewilderment. "You can't really plan on leaving the country? And you're entirely mistaken if you'd think I'd go with you!"

He leaned forward, his voice beseeching. "Hermione, we can't stay here. We have to leave, the sooner the better. _He's_ getting stronger by the day—"

"And whose fault is that I wonder?" Hermione snapped. He ran a tired hand down his face.

"Yes, yes, fine. I'm responsible is that what you wanted to hear?" He shoved away from the table and began to pace agitatedly. "I let them in, I was the master orchestrator. Do you honestly think I'm proud of my actions? Every plan I had backfired spectacularly, but my back was against a wall. What choice did I have?" He looked at her, his eyes begging for just one hint of understanding.

"I gave you plenty of choices, Draco." She murmured softly, voice firm, arms crossed against her chest. He shook his head and grit his teeth.

"Oh yes, sending me to Snape—"

"Do not mention him to me!" she spat. Her hand slammed against the table in anger. Her stomach churned at her misguided faith in her former Professor. Draco continued on without noticing her outburst.

"He did offer help, but not the way you wanted it, I knew that. But by that point _he knew_. What should I have done then? He could have told the Dark Lord at any minute if I decided not to go along with the plan. And your plan." He'd managed to work his way to her and grasped at her hand. She tugged, but he held firm. "Your selfless and generous plan to help my mother. Yes, I could have gone with that. But what did it depend upon, Hermione? It depended on my getting home. And there was no way that was happening without… without…" He stuttered over his words, releasing her hand and moving away.

"Without killing Professor Dumbledore." Hermione finished for him. Her voice waivered a bit here. She could see some of his points, she really could. What she couldn't do was justify the cost the Wizarding World had to pay for it.

He turned and spoke, as if she were no longer there. "I replay that night so often in my dreams. And every time I wonder, how was I able to disarm the great Albus Dumbledore? I still don't understand it." His voice was hoarse. "And still, I couldn't do _it._ Because I'm not a _murderer_ , Hermione. I'm not."

Hermione swallowed back her pain. She could feel her heart reaching out to him, wanting to find a way past all this. Because what he said was true. He hadn't killed Professor Dumbledore. But did that final act mean he could be forgiven for all the other horrible things?

"He's still dead." Hermione murmured. "He was the only person that Voldemort-" Draco flinched, "was afraid of. And now that he's gone, what chance does the Light side have? What chance does Harry have? He needed him."

They watched each other quietly for a moment, until Draco spoke. "Potter may actually win this. I think he has a fighting chance. But the risk is still too high…"

"You're not helping things are you?" Hermione cried. "He needed Dumbledore. He needs _me_!"

Draco closed his eyes. "Hermione, I can't just let you go back to that."

"If I don't help him, what chance has he to win then? It's for the greater good, Draco!"

"How is it you still don't understand?" he asked incredulously. "We discussed this from the very beginning - my motive has never been the greater good. Hell, it hasn't always even been my survival. It's been to protect those I love."

He looked at her pointedly and Hermione shook her head vehemently. "Don't. Just don't. Stop saying that - love, what you feel for me isn't love. You've used me, lied to me, misled me, and kidnapped me! That is not love Draco!"

"What is love then, Hermione, since you seem to have such a good grasp on the subject?" he countered, pushing himself away from the table again. "Is it wiping a person's memories away so that they don't even know you exist and sending them to a far off country, without their consent, to possibly never see them again?" Hermione sucked in a sharp breath.

"Don't you dare bring them into this." Her volume rose with each word. "It's not… it's not comparable!" Her voice quaked with rage. "They can't protect themselves! They will have a target on their backs because of me!"

"And you have a target on your back!" He snapped back. "I couldn't stand by and do _nothing_! I wanted to respect your decisions - I mean, I knew you might never forgive me after everything. But they did nothing to help you! What was I supposed to do then?"

"Who are you talking about?" Hermione was genuinely confused at this turn in the conversation.

"Your bloody Order," he growled menacingly. "I wanted to believe that someone would be looking out for you. That those people you call friends and comrades would have been here for you. But no-one was _here_ , Hermione. I waited and I watched and you went through it all alone. Merlin, you were about to leave here all alone. Not even one person could be bothered to come collect you!"

She swallowed indignantly. "We each have a role to play Draco. And I understand that I am not the priority right now." Despite knowing this, his words stung just a little. She had insisted on traveling alone to the Burrow, but it was true that nobody had argued much to come and get her. After all, the Weasleys were busy with Bill and Fleur's wedding and the rest of the Order was focused on the goings on within the Ministry and keeping Harry safe.

"You're a priority to me!" He exploded. He took a breath and gave her a hard look. "You warned me once that people would die. Do you know how many?" His words were low and hard. "Do you know how many people died, the last time, before Potter's miraculous survival?"

Hermione stiffened. "Of course I do." And she did. Sort of. There were a number of deaths. It had been _war_. But she felt that Draco wasn't talking about the numbers.

"Molly Weasley's brothers died." He began pacing now, as if he couldn't keep still while this was still inside him. "McGonagall's brother. One of the Black boys. Numerous members of the Bones' family. And let's not talk about what happened to Longbottom's parents." He halted, grasped his hands on the table and looked squarely at her. "Even Potter's parents died before it all came to an end. And we all know now that it wasn't over. So many died then. So many are dying now. How can you expect to survive this? How can you expect me to let you take that risk?" Draco shook his head, as if the words were physically painful.

Hermione let out a shuddery breath. She knew the risks. She'd known the risks the entire time. "I've told you before, Draco, I've been a part of this for a long time. And it's not your choice to make."

"Somebody has to look out for you, Hermione." He propped his hip against the table, right next to her chair. So close she could almost feel him. She stiffened and he didn't move any closer. He didn't move away either. "Your family is gone, now that you sent them away. You're my _wife_. I have to look out for you – I _need_ to look out for you."

Hermione's hand absently rose to the locket she still wore. She fiddled with it, feeling the slightest twinge of guilt. Did he not know? She'd burned her words… their contract. Their bond was gone.

He reached for the hand, reached for the locket. "We said those vows, we made an an oath. And still you carry them with you." His mouth tilted in almost a smile. Hermione shook slightly. Whether it was at the contact or at the memory, she was unsure. She backed away and hurt fleeted across his expression.. She unfastened the locket and held it, wondering, wondering why she couldn't find the words to tell him it was over. She silently placed the locket on the table and walked over to the get herself a drink. She could hear him moving. She heard him pick it up. Heard his steps coming toward her. Perhaps to try and convince her to take it back. Take _him_ back. And then he stopped.

They were gone. He'd wanted to show her, for her to see what those words meant. He thumbed the empty locket, his face ashen.

"Where are your vows, Hermione?" His voice was hard and clipped. Hermione's heart squeezed a little and she felt that twinge of remorse that had been tugging at her since the day she turned those sacred words to ash. She couldn't look at him. Her heart couldn't take it. But her mind wouldn't let her forget. She reminded herself that he was Draco Malfoy. A boy she once loved, but who had thrown it all away the minute he had betrayed her and everything that she stood for.

She didn't look back to him. She was surprised at the strength of her voice as she told him. "I burned them. They don't mean anything now." If her hands shook as she said the words, he couldn't see them.

He was silent. Silent for what felt like an eternity.

"Our bond, it meant nothing?" His voice was empty. "Gone just like that." She heard the angry clatter of the locket being tossed onto the table. "Must not have been very strong in the first place." He left the tent.

* * *

A/N: So we're almost at the end! Thank you all for staying with this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione spun and saw him leave, heart in her throat. She should call after him, run after him, do _something_. She moved swiftly, but not swift enough. She collided with the damned wards again. She beat her fists against the invisible barrier then turned away from the flap feeling hollow. What had she achieved? She'd hurt him, yes. Just as he'd hurt her. And he'd done it _again_. Watching him walk out had struck a chord within her. The echoes of her previous pain came back with sudden force. Was it only his betrayal that had stung so deeply? She had to wonder… because watching him walk away made her feel as if he was leaving her. Again. Why was he always leaving her? She angrily swiped a tear, refusing to let it fall. He'd come back for her. She knew that now. But that wasn't the plan. None of this was in the plan. And she'd had so much time to feel abandoned and betrayed. She couldn't just make those feelings disappear. Even if she wanted to.

She wrapped her arms around herself and glared at the empty locket on the table. Draco was angry now, but he wasn't stupid. He'd have figured out that her actions were useless. Burning her vows didn't do anything. The magic was in their bond, not in those written words. Those had just been for her - something personal, something concrete to mark the occasion. She'd realized it the moment she'd said they were nothing. If their bond had _truly_ broken, then he wouldn't have managed to get past her wards back at her house. Those wards had been to keep out enemies - he wasn't one. Her magic knew that even if her brain debated it. She eyed the flap again now, acknowledging the fact that the wards Draco used to keep her in were probably more powerful. After all, they were put in place to protect a loved one. Did she truly need any other proof of his love for her? He'd been misguided, yes, but perhaps his intentions were sincere.

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold and lonely. It wasn't fair. He'd gone off and there was still so much to say. She felt childish and juvenile - she'd ruined something so important. She'd made him think that their relationship was over. But it wasn't gone. Just broken. But how could they fix anything while they were apart? Could they even fix it at this point?

Hermione wasn't sure there was enough time. Because as hurt as she was that he kept leaving her, this time, she was going to have to leave him.

* * *

It felt like hours before Hermione saw the flutter of the tent and the blonde head that ducked inside. Her heart leapt, as did she. His eyes flickered with surprise as she came towards him. Her temper had eased considerably, he could see. She could still see the shadows of pain in his eyes, but not as stark.

She was close to him now - not touching but they easily could be.

"I want to tell you that I wish you'd stop leaving me," she murmured softly. "That hurt the most, I think. Feeling left by you."

He frowned at her confession, knowing better than to rehash all the old arguments. But he'd picked up on her tone. "You _want_ to tell me that. Yet you aren't going to?" He knew what she was going to say and he felt more defeated. How many times was he going to come up against the same barriers?

"How can I?" her voice broke a little. "Seeing you again… knowing that I wasn't wrong. That it wasn't all some lie. That you love me. It's made it all so much harder. It was easier to hate you when I thought you didn't."

"I'll always love you." Draco grasped at her hands, seeing a chance for a reconcilialtion that he'd begun to lose hope for.

"What if it's not enough?" Hermione said softly. "Love is powerful, it makes us stronger. But it's not enough for me to abandon everything I believe in."

He shook his head incredulously. "Don't play that line with me, Hermione. Not that whole, if you love something, set it free nonsense. I can't lose you."

Hermione sighed, torn between affection and frustration. She'd been hesitant to ask, but knew it was time to bring up a question that had been hanging over her since her arrival.

"Draco, where's your mother?" He dropped her hands then. Stepped back slightly, looking at her with guarded and wounded eyes. He didn't answer immediately and Hermione noticed the tick in his jaw signalling his tension. "You did so much to protect her. But she's not here with us. And I know you haven't brought her to the cottage, I've been keeping an eye on it." He looked beyond her – at the table, the chairs, anywhere but her face.

"She wouldn't come." The words broke from him, raw and painful. "She insisted that if one of us was to leave, it had to be me. That her duty was to protect me, so she'd help me escape." He was quaking now and Hermione felt the urge to comfort him. Only the need to hear the rest kept her from going to him.

"There is an old wizard we know – he's dying from Dragon Pox. She's convinced everyone that I've got it too, that I'm in quarentine with him. She's the only one in the family whose had it and survived. The Dark Lord has forbidden anyone to see me."

Hermione wondered if that had to do with his fear of death or the fear of losing too many of his more skillful soldiers.

"I've been wondering…" his voice broke a bit, "if she didn't want to leave in the first place."

Hermione moved to him then, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"She's lying to protect you, putting herself at a great risk. I don't think she'd do that if it was only so that she could stay."

"But she's in danger now," Draco argued. "I wish she'd have come with me. I tried, but she kept saying it wasn't my choice. How her choices, my father's choices, had led them to this."

"Helping you leave was most likely her way of respecting _your_ choices," Hermione said, her voice hitting on just the right words. His eyes narrowed as he caught her meaning.

"Hermione, please don't do this. I couldn't bear it if something-" Hermione covered his mouth gently with her hand and rested her head against his chest. She couldn't hear it again. She knew how he felt.

"Every day, I worry about something happening to someone I love," she shook her head against him. "I truly appreciate the lengths you'd go to in order to protect someone you love. You've done what you had to do. And I understand. I really think I do."

The tension eased from him slightly and he wrapped his arms around her.

"You forgive me?" the words were almost a desperate plea. Hermione was silent for a moment, uncertain.

"I want to. But how can you expect my forgiveness for doing what you felt you _needed_ to do if you won't let me do the same?"

His head shook above hers and he tightened his grip around her waist. Hermione let out a shuddery breath. She knew he was beginning to understand, even if it crushed him. She'd know, because she could feel the same pain. And she could feel that same familiar awareness beginning to build. This was the closest they'd been in ages. She could feel him everywhere. It felt good. Too good. She patted his chest, stroking deliberately feeling him, the drum of his heartbeat, the heat of his skin. What if this was her last chance with him?

She crushed his shrit in her hands – tugging him towards her, pulling him down. He watched her warily, but she saw it. That pull. That flash of desire that he couldn't hide away. Not when they were this close. Never when they were this close.

"Draco,"she murmured, sliding closer, "I don't want to talk anymore." With that she brought her lips to his. Oh gods. She moaned and leaned closer. He had no resistance to her. Arms encircled, bodies pressed. Hard heat all over. She trembled. She'd _missed_ this. She'd missed _him_. It was the same every time. And despite everything that had happened, this maddening passion hadn't changed. It hadn't disappeared or waned. It was still there, as hot and as overwhelming as the first time.

They were moving – back and back, with no walls to stop them. It was only the dim clattering sound that made Hermione realize that they'd hit the table. It didn't matter. Where they were didn't matter. As long they were together. _Now_. His hands tangled in her hair, his mouth worshipped her skin. Trailing a path of fire wherever his lips went.

He nipped at her neck and she shivered. "How can you even think it?" he muttered against her neck. "How could you think that I could ever leave you behind?" His teeth grazed up to her ear. "How can you think of leaving me? Leaving this?"

She shook her head, turning her head to kiss him. To bleed all her pain into that moment. It was harsh and hard and she broke away desperate for air.

"Because _I have to_ ," she rasped. She kissed down his throat, to the buttons she'd been steadily undoing. "But not this minute." No, this minute was _theirs_.

* * *

They were holding hands. He wondered if they'd ever done anything so conventional before. He brushed his thumb across her palm as they sat in a silence he was loathe to break. She was leaning against him, her breath slowing to its normal rhythm. And even with everything that could be coming, there was a part of him that felt _content_. There was no one to possibly catch them. No secretly scurrying back to their dormitories. They could just be.

"Draco," she buried her face in his shoulder, "I just… I want you to know… this wasn't a way for me to convince you. I wasn't trying to use _this_ to manipulate you."

He laughed. A full bodied laugh that had Hermione looking at him in surprise.

"Merlin, I never would have thought that, Hermione." His laughter eased to a chuckle and his heart squeezed as he looked at her. "You're not Slytherin enough for that." She whacked his arm.

"Are you saying you would do such a thing?" she asked indignantly.

"Absolutely." He brushed a kiss atop the bushy head he'd grown to love. "If I thought that it would actually work, if keeping you in a sexually satisfied stupor would keep you with me."

"It would just be a dream," she murmured softly. "Eventually we'd wake up."

They were silent again, but that feeling of contentness was slowing slipping away. Instead, his heart was clawing at his throat as he began to speak.

"Nothing I say is going to change your mind, is it? You're going to leave." _You're going to leave me_. Perhaps it's what he deserved. Perhaps this was his punishment.

"Yes." She kissed his shoulder. "I could see it, you know. You and I alone together, somewhere far away. All of this left behind. But I could never truly be happy, knowing that I ran when I could have helped."

He moved slightly away from her. "I could try and make you. Keep you with me, keep running, just as I've done so far." He could sense the disappointment in her gaze. "But it wouldn't be any good, because I wouldn't have you as I do now. All I'd do is push you away. Again." He got up and Hermione scrambled to follow.

Without looking at her, he reached out his hand. She blinked as something zoomed from the depths of the tent into his grasp. _Wandless magic_. Well, she was impressed.

"When did you learn that?" she asked breahtlessly. Oh that was something she needed to achieve. He didn't answer her, just looked at the object in his hand. It was only then that Hermione realized it was a wand. _Her wand_.

"My wand," she took it from him exhuberantly. She swished and flicked and felt the sort of euphoria that only came with the feel of magic.

It only took a moment for her shoulders to fall. She should be pleased. She had finally gotten through to him. But there was still a price to pay. Someone had to leave. Again.

"You know," she said quietly, "wands are loyal. Yet mine certainly seemed taken with you."

He smirked slightly. "Well, so was its owner."

She smiled. It was nice to see him smirk again, oddly enough.

"I don't know what's going to happen by the end of all this." She gestured absently. "But you've given me something else to fight for. A future. One that, I hope, has us both in it." She moved to him, pressed a hand to his cheek. A hand he held firmly against him for a moment.

"I hope to find my way back to you someday. Stay safe for me, Draco Malfoy." She kissed him. Soft and sweet and sad. Then she was gone, through the flaps of the tent, into the light of day.

Draco remained for countless moments, alone. Waiting in the shadows.

* * *

A/N : And that's a wrap! Thank you to everyone who has stayed with this fic through to the end. I hope you all enjoyed it. And I know, it was bittersweet, but I always meant to end it before going into the depths of the war. For those of you who want to imagine them finding their way back to each other, great! And for those of you who think it couldn't work out, well then maybe they didn't. But for those of you who'd like a little something more from me, well I do have another piece in the works that ties in with this fic. I'm calling it a companion piece – not quite a sequel because I definitely think both fics can stand alone. Anyway, it's called _Empty Space_ , so if you're interested, keep an eye out for it (I'm trying to get more of it written before posting). Thanks for reading!


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